Following 
the  Flag 

Diary  of  a  Soldier's  Wife 


Alice  Applegate  Sargent 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

THE  PETER  AND  ROSELL  HARVEY 
MEMORIAL  FUND 


Following  the  Flag; 
Diary  of  a  Soldier's  Wife. 


Alfr*  Applrgat?  Sargent 

Washington,  D  C.,  1909 


Follourinq  trie  Flag 

DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 


BY 


ALICE  APPLEGATE  SARGENT 


E.  B.  BARNETT,  PUBLISHER 

204  Manhattan  Building 
KANSAS  CITY,  MO. 


QIo  tlj*  m*monj  of  mg 
<£ol.  ^frh^rt  ^ 
tlifi  Itttl?  book  fa  b^btrat? a. 


"But  in  the  last  days    *    * 

They  shall  beat  their  swords  into  plowshares, 

And  their  spears  into  pruning  hoo\s: 
Ration  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation, 
T^either  shall  they  learn  war  any  more." 


CONTENTS 

Page 
Chapter  1 — I  become  an  Army  Woman. 9 

2 — The    Campaign    of    Santiago, 
Cuba ...._ 17 

3— My  First  Voyage  to  the  Phil- 
ippines   31 

4 — My  Second  Voyage  to  the  Phil- 
ippines ..  60 

frJir    m*****      * 

5 — Experiences  during  the  World 
War  .  ..  80 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG 
DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  was  born  in  the  Umpqua  Valley,  Douglas 
County,  Oregon.  My  father  and  mother  came 
to  Oregon  in  the  great  covered  wagon  train  of 
1843.  When  I  was  a  child  I  used  often  to  say, 
"I  will  never  leave  Oregon."  How  little  we 
know  of  the  future.  My  feet  have  wandered 
far  since  those  days  of  my  childhood. 

On  the  llth  of  August,  1886,  I  was  married 
to  Col.  Herbert  H.  Sargent,  then  a  young  2nd 
Lieutenant  of  Cavalry,  stationed  at  old  Fort 
Klamath  in  eastern  Oregon.  Shortly  before  our 
marriage  he  was  detailed  as  instructor  in  mili- 
tary science  at  the  University  of  Illinois  and  we 
left  immediately  for  his  new  station. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  never  been  out  of  Ore- 
gon and  the  prairie  land  of  Illinois  looked 
strange  to  me.  We  made  our  home  in  the  city 
of  Champaign  while  the  Colonel  was  on  duty 
at  the  University. 

At  the  end  of  a  year  my  husband  rejoined 
his  regiment  at  Fort  Bidwell,  Northern  Cali- 
fornia, and  here  began  my  real  army  life.  Dur- 


10  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

ing  my  thirty-two  years  with  the  Army  I  fol- 
lowed the  flag  from  the  golden  shores  of  the 
Pacific  to  the  bleak  New  England  coast,  from 
the  Green  Mountains  of  Vermont  to  the  pal- 
metto groves  of  Florida,  and  from  Cuba  to  the 
far  away  Islands  of  the  Philippines — a  life  brim 
full  of  thrilling  and  interesting  experiences,  but 
in  this  little  book  I  can  touch  only  on  the  high 
lights  in  these  eventful  years. 

After  more  than  a  year  at  Fort  Bidwell  my 
husband  was  ordered  to  march  overland  with 
his  troop  of  cavalry  to  Fort  Walla  Walla,  Wash- 
ington, a  distance  of  nearly  five  hundred  miles. 
I  decided  to  go  with  him,  as  I  had  a  splendid 
horse  of  my  own,  a  horse  I  had  bought  at  Bid- 
well  and  of  whom  I  was  very  fond  and  very 
proud.  This  horse  was  called  Patsy;  he  was  a 
beautiful  dark  mahogany  bay  with  a  white  star 
in  his  forehead.  The  first  week  or  so  of  our 
march  was  delightful,  weather  ideal  and  good 
camping  places.  Cavalry  on  a  march  have  a 
certain  rule  as  to  gait;  walk,  trot  and  gallop, 
walk,  trot  and  gallop.  This  change  of  gait  rests 
both  men  and  horses.  In  the  afternoons  the 
trumpeter  would  blow  "Dismount"  and  the 
troopers  would  walk  and  lead  their  horses.  Us- 
ually this  order  to  dismount  would  be  given  at 
the  top  of  some  long,  steep  grade.  I  used  to 
slip  out  of  my  saddle  and  lead  my  horse,  and 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  11 

when  the  order  came  to  mount  I  got  into  my 
saddle,  feeling  quite  rested  and  ready  to  ride 
the  remaining  miles  to  camp. 

We  were  three  weeks  making  this  march.  We 
could  not  make  forced  marches  on  account  of 
the  mule  teams  with  the  heavy  baggage  wag- 
ons. This  was  in  November;  the  weather 
changed  to  cold  and  storms.  I  could  not  keep 
my  hands  and  feet  warm  while  on  horseback 
and  reluctantly  found  refuge  in  a  covered  coach 
called  a  "Dougherty"  wagon,  my  horse  being 
led  by  one  of  the  troopers. 

While  around  the  camp  fires  in  the  early 
mornings  we  would  each  put  up  a  bite  of  lunch, 
a  sandwich  we  could  put  in  our  pockets,  for  we 
seldom  halted  at  noon,  but  would  march  all  day 
and  eat  our  lunch  as  we  traveled  along. 

The  weather  finally  became  so  cold  our  sand- 
wiches would  be  frozen  and  not  fit  to  eat. 
We  fell  back  on  hardtack;  two  or  three  pieces 
of  hardtack  would  keep  us  up  until  we 
went  into  camp  and  could  get  a  good,  hot  sup- 
per. We  sampled  all  the  different  kinds  of 
weather  eastern  Oregon  could  produce — rain, 
hail,  sleet,  and  finally  snow,  not  to  mention 
miles  and  miles  of  mud,  before  we  climbed  the 
Blue  Mountains.  On  the  summit  we  camped  in 
a  foot  and  a  half  of  snow,  with  everything  a 
glare  of  ice.  Fortunately  this  was  our  last 


12  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

camp,  for  on  the  following  day  we  rolled  into 
Fort  Walla  Walla. 

Fort  Walla  Walla  was  at  this  time  headquar- 
ters for  the  Second  Cavalry.  It  is  always  pleas- 
ant to  be  stationed  at  Regimental  Headquar- 
ters, for  the  Regimental  band  is  there  and 
there  are  many  delightful  concerts,  at  "Re- 
treat" the  stars  and  stripes  float  down  to  the 
strains  of  the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  there  are 
full  dress  parades  than  which  there  is  nothing 
more  inspiring  and  beautiful. 

The  horses  of  each  troop  of  cavalry  are  uni- 
form in  color;  there  is  the  bay-horse  troop,  the 
gray-horse  troop,  the  black-horse  troop,  and  so 
on.  The  2nd  Cavalry  Band  of  about  twenty- 
five  pieces  was  mounted  on  white  horses,  a 
beautiful  sight.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  train 
these  high  strung  horses  to  carry  certain  in- 
struments, particularly  the  rider  with  the  big 
bass  drum,  but  horses  are  almost  human  in  in- 
telligence and  learn  to  do  many  things;  they 
learn  to  know  the  trumpet  calls  as  well  as  their 
riders  and  an  old  cavalry  horse  will  keep  his 
place  in  the  ranks  and  go  through  the  drill 
with  an  empty  saddle. 

We  had  been  at  Fort  Walla  Walla  about  eigh- 
teen months  when  the  2d  Cavalry  received 
orders  to  change  stations  with  the  4th  Cavalry 
stationed  at  that  time  at  various  posts  in  Ari- 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  13 

zona.  We  did  not  much  relish  the  prospect  of 
going  to  Arizona,  for  many  and  lurid  were  the 
tales  that  were  told  of  the  dreadful  heat,  the 
sand  storms,  the  Gila  monsters,  centipedes,  tar- 
antulas, etc.,  but  when  Uncle  Sam  said  "March," 
we  marched. 

We  were  in  Arizona  four  years  and  I  can 
truthfully  say  that  Fort  Huachuca  was,  of  all 
our  stations,  the  one  my  husband  and  myself 
loved  best.  We  met  the  sandstorms,  to  be  sure ; 
we  also  found  the  Gila  monsters,  centipedes, 
tarantulas,  and  many  other  creeping  and  crawl- 
ing things,  but  the  extreme  dryness  of  the  at- 
mosphere tempered  the  heat,  we  were  six  thous- 
and feet  above  sea  level,  the  winters  were  mild 
and  delightful,  the  ranchers  were  glad  to  let  us 
have  cows  to  milk  for  their  keep.  True,  the 
renegade  Apache,  called  "The  Kid,"  terrorized 
the  ranchers  and  outlying  settlements  and  de- 
tachments had  to  be  sent  out  frequently  to 
chase  the  "Kid"  and  his  band  of  outlaws.  Some- 
times my  husband,  with  a  small  command, 
would  be  out  for  a  couple  of  weeks ;  neverthe- 
less, we  were  young  and  life  was  sweet. 

While  we  were  at  Fort  Huachuca  Col.  Sargent 
was  ordered  to  the  Apache  Indian  Reservation 
on  the  Gila  River  for  temporary  duty.  I  joined 
him  later.  The  little  post  on  the  Gila  was  gar- 
risoned by  the  24th  Infantry,  colored.  The  heat 


14  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

was  very  great  and  sand  storms  were  frequent, 
but  we  found  it  rather  interesting.  Friday  was 
issue  day  and  by  daylight  the  Indians  fairly 
swarmed  in  to  get  the  supplies  given  them  by 
the  Government.  Beef  cattle  were  slaughtered 
on  the  spot  and  each  head  of  a  household  re- 
ceived his  or  her  share.  The  Indians  were 
formed  into  long  lines,  moving  in  single  file; 
each  Indian  in  line  carried  a  card,  giving  the 
number  of  persons  dependent  on  this  particular 
individual  for  support.  As  the  tickets  were  pre- 
sented at  the  door  of  the  commissary  store- 
house so  many  pounds  of  flour,  sugar,  tea,  rice 
and  beef  were  handed  out,  the  amount  of  each 
according  to  the  number  of  dependents  on  the 
ticket. 

When  my  husband  was  off  duty  we  used  to 
go  over  to  the  Indian  camps  looking  for  baskets. 
Some  of  these  were  very  artistic  and  beautiful. 
The  Colonel  carried  his  revolver  and  I  carried 
a  club.  This  weapon  was  used  to  protect  us 
from  the  Indian  dogs  which  were  quite  numer- 
ous and  sometimes  ferocious. 

After  a  few  months  Col.  Sargent  was  re- 
lieved from  duty  on  the  Gila  and  ordered  back 
to  Fort  Huachuca.  We  made  a  seven  days 
march  with  the  24th  Infantry  from  the  Reser- 
vation to  the  town  of  Wilcox,  Arizona,  where 
at  midnight  we  took  the  train  for  Huachuca, 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  15 

This  march  was  in  sharp  contrast  to  our  march 
from  Bidwell  to  Walla  Walla,  for  in  this  case 
we  traveled  with  Infantry,  the  heat  was  very 
great  and  the  sand  storms  and  alkali  dust  made 
us  very  uncomfortable.  One  evening,  just  after 
we  had  made  camp,  a  sand  storm  struck  us ;  our 
tents  were  blown  down  and  our  beds  filled  with 
sand. 

After  two  years  at  Fort  Huachuca  we  were 
ordered  to  Fort  Bowie,  another  station  in  the 
mountains  of  Arizona,  fourteen  miles  from  the 
railroad.  We  were  at  Fort  Bowie  two  years. 

From  Arizona  two  troops  of  the  2nd  Cavalry 
— one  of  them  my  husband's — were  ordered  to 
Fort  Logan,  Colorado,  twelve  miles  from  the 
city  of  Denver.  We  were  at  Fort  Logan  only 
seven  months  when  Col.  Sargent  was  made 
Regimental  Quartermaster  and  this  took  us  to 
Fort  Wingate,  New  Mexico,  headquarters  of  the 
2nd  Cavalry. 

Situated  in  the  mountains  of  New  Mexico, 
at  an  elevation  of  seven  thousand  feet,  Fort 
Wingate  was  in  many  ways  not  a  pleasant  sta- 
tion ;  we  had  heavy  winds  and  the  winters  were 
cold  and  disagreeable.  We  were  three  miles 
from  the  railroad.  Fort  Wingate  was  our  home 
for  three  years. 

In  July,  1897,  Fort  Wingate  suffered  a  dis- 
astrous fire.  Soldiers'  barracks,  chapel,  big  ad- 


16  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

ministration  building  and  a  number  of  sets  of 
officers'  quarters  were  burned.  The  house  we 
occupied  was  one  of  the  first  to  go  and  we  lost 
nearly  all  we  had.  All  the  troops  at  Fort  Win- 
gate,  with  the  exception  of  two  troops,  were 
sent  to  Fort  Riley,  Kansas,  for  station.  The 
troops  remaining  at  Fort  Wingate  went  into 
tents  and  a  new  set  of  barracks  were  built; 
these  were  not  finished  until  December.  The 
men  moved  into  the  new  barracks  on  Christmas 
day. 

Fort  Wingate  stands  at  the  corner  of  the 
Navajo  Indian  reservation  and  not  far  away 
were  the  Zuni  and  Moqui  tribes.  The  blankets 
woven  by  the  Navajo  Indians  are  known  far  and 
wide  for  their  beauty  and  durability.  The  Zuni 
Indians  made  very  artistic  pottery  while  the 
Moqui  tribe  are  famous  for  their  gruesome 
snake  dances. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  17 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  SANTIAGO  CAMPAIGN 

The  destruction  of  the  battleship  Maine  in 
the  harbor  at  Havana,  Cuba,  in  1898,  was  fol- 
lowed by  America's  preparations  for  war  and 
the  concentration  of  her  fighting  forces  on  the 
old  battlefield  of  Chickamauga,  Georgia. 

We  were  still  with  my  husband's  regiment, 
the  2d  U.  S.  Cavalry  at  old  Fort  Wingate,  New 
Mexico.  One  memorable  evening  an  order  came 
requiring  the  troops  at  Fort  Wingate  to  be 
ready  in  five  days  to  take  the  train  for  Chicka- 
mauga. I  resolved  then  and  there  to  go  with 
the  regiment  to  Cuba  if  possible;  but  I  will  let 
my  diary  tell  this  part  of  the  story. 

Friday,  April  22,  1898. 

Left  Fort  Wingate  this  morning  about  9 
o'clock  for  Chickamauga,  Georgia.  Two  troops 
of  the  2d  U.  S.  Cavalry  and  the  band.  Fine 
morning,  clear  and  sun  shining.  The  Pullman 
in  which  the  officers  and  their  families  are  rid- 
ing is  called  the  Oregon.  My  native  state  is 
Oregon,  and  I  shall  take  this  as  a  forerunner 
of  good  luck.  I  am  leaving  Wingate  without  a 
single  regret.  The  barren  hills  of  New  Mexico 


18  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

have  no  charm  for  me.    It  is  a  land  of  desolate 
distances  and  sand  storms. 

3  o'clock  P.  M. — Have  just  passed  through 
Laguna,  an  Indian  village  of  picturesque  adobe 
houses  where  the  native  inhabitants  brought  to 
the  train  quantities  of  pottery — some  pieces 
were  very  fine.  Heard  at  Laguna  Station  that 
the  battleship  Oregon  had  been  attacked  by 
three  Spanish  vessels,  but  may  be  only  a  rumor. 

Saturday,  April  23,  1898. 

This  morning  finds  us  running  through  a 
prairie  country  with  the  snow  capped  Spanish 
peaks  in  the  distance.  Have  had  a  lunch  and 
will  soon  reach  La  Junta,  Colorado,  where  the 
horses  are  to  be  watered. 

3  o'clock  P.  M. — Have  just  pulled  out  of  La 
Junta  where  we  spent  three  or  four  hours,  get- 
ting a  good  dinner  and  having  the  horses  taken 
off  for  water  and  exercise.  Got  new  cars  for 
the  horses,  for  which  we  all  feel  thankful.  The 
good  people  of  the  town  turned  out  in  crowds 
to  see  Uncle  Sam's  boys.  Our  band  played  some 
national  airs. 

We  have  passed  old  Fort  Lyons,  Colorado, 
abandoned  some  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago, 
peopled  now  with  ghosts  of  the  past.  No  stars 
and  stripes  float  from  the  old  flagstaff,  which 
still  stands,  and  where  all  was  once  bustle  and 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  19 

busy  life,  dead  silence  broods.  It  brings  to  me 
a  sad  and  almost  indescribable  feeling  of  re- 
gret to  see  these  deserted  places. 

Sunday  Morning,  April  24,  1898. 

We  are  just  leaving  Topeka,  Kansas,  where 
we  had  a  good  breakfast  and  met  some  friends. 
People  very  much  excited  and  full  of  enthusi- 
asm. We  meet  with  a  warm  reception  every- 
where. 

The  first  misfortune  of  our  organization  came 
this  morning  in  the  death  of  one  of  our  ambu- 
lance mules;  cut  his  foot  so  badly  had  to  be 
shot.  Poor  old  fellow! 

Sunday  Evening,  1  P.  M. 

Have  just  had  dinner  in  Jefferson  City,  Mis- 
souri, where  I  met  the  Governor  of  the  State, 
Governor  Stevens.  Have  had  a  most  exciting 
day,  as  we  passed  through  many  large  towns 
and  the  people  turned  out  in  great  crowds. 
Country  beautiful;  some  rain  in  forenoon. 

Have  just  had  press  dispatches  telling  of  cap- 
ture of  Spanish  vessels  by  some  of  our  war- 
ships. It  has  come  at  last,  and  the  dogs  of 
war  are  loose. 

Monday,  April  25,  1898. 
This  has  been  an  exciting  day — it  has  been 


20  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

like  a  triumphal  march.  We  crossed  the  State 
of  Illinois  and  everywhere  the  people  were  wild 
with  excitement.  At  one  town  they  gave  us  a 
salute  and  we  "Daughters  of  the  Regiment"  had 
flowers  given  us. 

We  stopped  for  several  hours  at  Cairo,  Illi- 
nois, where  General  Grant  took  command  of 
the  Army  at  the  time  of  the  Civil  War.  The 
hotel  where  we  had  dinner  was  the  same  hotel 
where  Grant  stopped.  It  is  beautiful  and  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river,  where  we  could 
watch  the  steamboats  running  up  and  down. 
The  country  through  this  part  of  the  state  is 
beautiful.  Met  at  Cairo  today  a  minister  from 
Portland,  Oregon,  by  the  name  of  Gee.  Very 
pleasant  gentleman. 

Reached  St.  Louis  about  one  o'clock  this 
morning  where  my  husband's  father  was  wait- 
ing to  see  us.  I  was  asleep,  but  they  woke  me 
and  we  had  a  short  visit. 

Our  arrival  at  Chickamauga  put  a  stop  to  my 
entries  in  my  diary.  This  I  did  not  take  up 
again  until  some  time  after  we  established  camp 
on  the  hills  of  Santiago. 

President  McKinley  called  for  ten  additional 
regiments  of  volunteers,  these  regiments  to  be 
recruited  in  the  South  and  called  the  Immunes. 

My  husband,  then  a  young  1st  Lieutenant  of 
Cavalry  was  ordered  to  Washington,  D.  C.,  to 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  21 

take  a  position  in  the  office  of  the  Adjutant 
General  to  help  organize  these  volunteers.  We 
went  on  to  Washington,  and  just  a  month  later 
my  husband  was  commissioned  Colonel  of  one 
of  the  new  regiments,  the  5th  U.  S.  Volunteer 
Infantry  or  5th  Immunes.  We  left  immediately 
for  Columbus,  Mississippi,  where  Colonel  Sar- 
gent organized  and  equipped  his  regiment.  As 
soon  as  the  men  were  ready  for  service  the 
order  came  to  sail  for  Santiago. 

IN  CAMP  NEAR  SANTIAGO  DE  CUBA. 
September  12,  1898. 

On  August  eighth  at  three  o'clock  P.  M.  we 
sailed  from  Savannah,  Georgia,  on  board  the 
transport  Rio  Grande,  Captain  Staple,  for  San- 
tiago de  Cuba.  On  the  vessel  were  six  hundred 
and  fifty-five  men  and  officers  of  the  5th  U.  S. 
V.  Infantry,  part  of  Colonel  Sargent's  regiment 
of  Immunes,  so  called.  The  voyage  across  was 
a  very  pleasant  one,  a  smooth  sea  and  very  few 
cases  of  sea  sickness. 

Besides  myself  were  two  ladies  of  the  regi- 
ment who  chose  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  those 
dear  to  them.  On  our  first  night  out  some  of 
the  younger  officers  were  singing  on  deck,  and 
as  I  lay  in  my  berth  listening  the  tears  I  shed 
were  not  for  myself,  but  for  those  left  behind, 
far  away  in  the  Oregon  country  who  would 


22  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

grieve  when  they  knew  I  had  sailed  for  Cuba's 
isle.  We  passed  within  five  miles  of  the  Island 
of  San  Salvador,  and  on  the  morning  of  August 
twelfth  sighted  Moro  Castle,  a  grand  sight.  We 
ran  through  the  narrow  passage,  close  to  the 
wreck  of  the  Spanish  warship  Reina  Mercedes, 
and  quite  near  the  sunken  Merrimac,  whose 
spars  were  sticking  out  of  the  water.  Soon 
after,  we  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  the  city  of 
Santiago.  The  landing  of  the  troops  was  not 
made  until  the  next  morning. 

No  transportation  could  be  gotten  for  us 
women  except  carriages  from  the  city,  these 
having  been  used  for  carrying  fever  cases.  We 
decided  to  walk  to  camp.  Carrying  our  small 
bundles,  we  started  out  soon  after  the  men  and 
reached  camp  all  right,  a  little  tired  and  warm, 
but  none  the  worse  for  our  climb. 

Coming  up  through  the  narrow  streets  we 
were  greeted  with  smiles  and  a  morning  salute 
from  the  Cuban  men,  women  and  children  along 
the  way. 

The  city  of  Santiago  is  picturesque  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  buildings  are  painted  chiefly  in 
light  blues,  pinks  and  yellows,  and  the  roofs 
are  of  red  tiles.  But  distance  certainly  lends 
enchantment  in  this  case,  for  the  city  is  filthy 
beyond  description. 

Our  camp  on  the  hills  overlooking  the  city 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  23 

would  be  pleasant  but  for  the  drenching  rains. 

For  some  days  food  and  water  were  scarce 
and  we  were  delighted  to  get  a  tin  cup  of  cof- 
fee and  a  bit  of  bread  for  our  breakfast. 

We  can  fully  realize  what  our  brave  men 
suffered  during  the  terrible  two  days'  fight  in 
the  wet  trenches — all  glory  be  to  them!  We 
could  not  help  them  then,  but  we  were  proud 
to  be  among  the  first  to  relieve  them  and  many 
regiments  have  sailed  for  our  own  shores  since 
our  arrival. 

This  island  is  beautiful,  mountainous  and 
green  to  the  very  summits.  Villas  nestle  among 
the  trees  and  the  white  tents  of  Uncle  Sam's 
boys  cluster  on  the  hilltops.  But  the  sun  is  in- 
tensely hot  and  the  air  seems  full  of  hot  steam. 
A  scorpion  on  my  skirts,  and  a  small  snake  in 
our  Lieutenant  Colonel's  tent  warned  us  to  keep 
our  eyes  open  for  creeping  things.  The  mos- 
quito toots  his  small  horn,  while  tiny  flies  drive 
our  poor  horses  almost  wild. 

One  day  we  were  honored  by  a  visit  from 
General  Chaffee,  "Chaffee  the  Magnificent,"  as 
he  has  been  called  since  the  two  days'  fight.  I 
call  him  the  Iron  Duke.  Our  last  meeting  was 
under  the  blue  skies  of  Arizona. 

When  I  pass  along  the  streets  of  Santiago  the 
women  crowd  to  the  doors  to  see  the  "Senora 
Americano,"  and  wrinkled  faced,  gray  haired 


24  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

old  creatures  smile  and  wave  their  hands  to  me. 
I  said  to  an  officer  of  our  army,  one  high  in 
rank  and  with  every  opportunity  to  know,  "Tell 
me  about  the  Cuban  soldiers."  He  said  they 
were  of  invaluable  service  to  our  army,  and 
while  not  what  could  be  called  brave  soldiers, 
they  were  willing  and  ready  to  do  what  they 
could  to  help.  I  was  glad  to  hear  him  say  so. 
Let  us  hope  that  the  United  States  with  the 
glory  of  splendid  victories  fresh  upon  her,  will 
deal  generously  and  kindly  with  these  people. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  25 


PART  II. 


DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE. 

Camp  of  5th  U.  S.  Volunteer  Infantry 
Santiago,  Cuba,  Fall  of  1898. 

Since  my  last  record  of  events  I  have  been 
ill  of  yellow  fever.  This  fever  has  broken  out 
in  camp  and  two  isolated  hospital  tents  shelter 
a  number  of  our  poor  stricken  soldiers. 

Right  across  the  peaceful  bay,  where  I  can 
sit  and  look  at  them  from  the  door  of  my  tent, 
are  two  long,  low  buildings  on  the  water's  edge 
— yellow  fever  hospitals  they  are,  and  back  in 
the  hills  we  often  see  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke 
rise  to  heaven — there  the  bodies  of  the  dead 
are  being  burned — patients  from  the  city  of 
Santiago.  It  all  makes  one  think  of  these  lines 
from  "The  Ancient  Mariner"— "Oh,  Christ,  that 
such  a  thing  should  be."  Blue  water,  blue  skies, 
green,  green  hills  and  groves  of  stately  palms, 
but  air  laden  with  disease  and  death.  It  took 
courage  to  face  the  Spanish  bullets  and  our 
brave  soldiers  showed  their  valor.  It  takes 
courage  to  face  a  situation  such  as  this,  to  face 
bravely  another  foe,  a  creeping,  silent  foe  who 
comes  without  the  boom  of  guns  to  herald  his 


26  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

approach.    Is  it  any  wonder  some  of  us  are  a 
little  homesick? 

October  9,  1898. 

The  rainy  season  has  set  in;  as  a  "watering 
place"  our  camp  on  the  Cuban  hills  is  a  decided 
success.  It  has  been  the  rainy  season  in  Cuba 
ever  since  the  month  of  July,  or  so  we  were  led 
to  believe,  but  it  has  just  set  in,  as  we  are  now 
informed. 

We  were  all  congratulating  ourselves  on  get- 
ting through  September,  having  been  told  that 
the  month  of  September  was  the  worst  of  all, 
but  this  is  terrible.  Since  the  first  day  of  this 
month  it  has  rained  every  day,  some  days  all 
day.  The  hurricane  season  is  at  hand  to  add  its 
horrors  to  the  situation.  Last  night  we  were 
awakened  by  the  howling  of  the  storm  and 
hastily  dressed,  expecting  every  moment  to 
have  our  tent  torn  from  its  fastenings,  leaving 
us  exposed  to  the  pouring  rain,  but  fortune  fa- 
vored us  and  after  a  time  the  storm  passed  by, 
leaving  our  tent  standing.  Others  were  not  so 
fortunate.  To  have  only  a  thickness  of  canvas 
over  one's  head  when  the  rain  is  coming  down  in 
torrents  and  the  darkness  is  illuminated  by  the 
quivering  blue  glare  of  lightning  is  anything 
but  pleasant.  But  we  have  to  accept  this  situa- 
tion along  with  many  other  disagreeable  ones 
while  campaigning  in  Cuba. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  27 

For  our  poor  sick  men  it  is  doubly  hard,  al- 
though everything  that  is  possible  is  being  done 
for  their  comfort.  Sick  report  ran  up  at  one 
time  to  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  men 
out  of  a  regiment  of  one  thousand,  but  condi- 
tions are  somewhat  better  now,  there  being 
no  new  cases  of  yellow  fever.  But  there  are 
still  a  number  of  cases  of  measles,  malarial  and 
typhoid  fever. 

Letters  from  home  are  anxiously  looked  for 
and  the  arrival  of  a  vessel  from  "The  States" 
causes  great  excitement  in  camp.  Papers  a 
month  old  are  greedily  read  and  as  to  magazines 
one  is  seldom  seen  here. 

For  nearly  two  months  we  have  seen  no  birds 
except  the  carrion  vultures;  these  hover  over- 
head in  great  numbers,  circling  around  and 
around,  throwing  black  shadows  on  the  ground 
until  the  air  seems  full  of  hundreds  of  these 
repulsive  birds. 

But  within  the  last  ten  days  I  have  seen  a 
few  little  canaries  and  a  black  bird  and  have 
heard  some  sweet  notes  from  an  invisible  song- 
ster, something  similar  to  the  notes  of  our  robin 
at  home.  These  little  things  have  made  my 
heart  feel  lighter. 


Then  came  days  so  dark  and  dreary  my  diary 
was  laid  aside  and  forgotten.    My  husband,  who 


28  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

had  kept  up  wonderfully  through  the  long  sum- 
mer months,  fell  ill  and  lay  for  weeks  at  the 
point  of  death.  I  had  recovered  from  my  illness 
and  had  strength  to  nurse  him. 

That  valiant  regiment,  the  5th  Immunes — 
their  loyalty  and  devotion  to  their  Colonel  and 
to  their  Colonel's  wife  is  something  beautiful 
to  remember,  for  all  through  those  anxious 
weeks  their  helpful  kindness  and  sympathy 
never  failed  us.  They  would  beg  me  to  use  my 
influence  to  induce  the  Colonel  to  allow  them  to 
put  him  on  shipboard  and  take  him  back  to  the 
States,  for  they  feared  he  could  never  recover 
if  he  remained  at  Santiago.  But  to  all  these 
appeals  he  made  the  same  reply,  "I  can't  leave 
my  regiment."  To  our  relief  and  joy  he  made 
a  splendid  recovery. 

Through  the  almost  unbearable  heat  of  that 
summer,  with  the  drenching  tropical  rains  pour- 
ing down  until  the  mud  in  the  company  streets 
was  hub  deep  to  the  wagons,  and  our  tents 
turned  black  with  mould,  a  hundred  men 
marched  to  the  city  every  morning  for  guard 
and  fatigue  duty,  for  Col.  Sargent  and  his  Im- 
munes helped  General  Wood  clean  up  Santiago. 

Through  all  this  trying  time  we  had  no 
nurses.  It  was  not  until  some  time  later  that 
three  nurses  were  detailed  for  duty  with  the 
5th.  The  men  of  the  Hospital  Corps,  though 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  29 

inexperienced,  did  their  duty  nobly  and  we  had 
two  splendid  surgeons. 

Nevertheless,  the  regiment  lost  thirty-seven 
men.  With  heavy  hearts  we  laid  them  to  rest 
under  the  drooping  palm  trees  on  the  hills  of 
Santiago. 

I  was  the  only  woman  in  camp.  Of  the  two 
who  sailed  with  us  from  Savannah,  one,  the 
mother  of  one  of  our  Lieutenants,  could  not 
endure  camp  life  and  had  to  return  to  the 
States.  The  other,  the  wife  of  one  of  our  Cap- 
tains, went  with  her  husband  to  Moro  Castle 
where  he,  with  his  company,  was  assigned  for 
duty. 

With  the  coming  of  the  winter  months  prep- 
arations were  made  to  remove  the  bodies  of 
those  who  had  died  in  Cuba.  I  used  to  sit  in 
the  door  of  my  tent  and  watch  a  transport 
swinging  slowly  at  the  pier  just  below  our  camp. 
They  were  cording  up  on  the  decks  long  boxes 
of  yellow  pine,  and  day  after  day  the  work  went 
on  until  the  decks  were  piled  high  with  long 
rows,  box  on  box,  in  every  one  the  body  of  a 
soldier  who  had  died  that  Cuba  might  be  free. 
Soon  the  transport  would  be  sailing  for  the 
home-land  with  this  silent  army — the  grand 
army  of  the  dead. 

Now  spring  was  at  hand  and  still  the  fever 
did  its  ghastly  work,  and  when  an  order  came 


30  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

for  the  regiment  to  move  to  Guantanamo,  sixty 
miles  east  of  Santiago,  the  relief  it  brought  was 
good  to  see.  Any  change  from  the  camp,  where 
all  had  suffered  more  or  less,  was  gladly  wel- 
comed. 

A  Guantanamo  the  men  had  barracks  built 
of  wood,  an  improvement  on  tent  life  in  any 
climate,  but  especially  so  in  the  tropics.  Here 
I  had  a  house  to  live  in.  After  eight  months  of 
tent  life  it  was  a  pleasure.  This  house  had  been 
the  home  of  a  Spanish  officer  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war,  and  in  it  we  found  five  coal-black 
cats  which  my  Barbadoes  maid  declared  were 
the  ghosts  of  Spaniards  left  to  guard  the  place. 

A  few  months  at  Guantanamo  and  then  came 
tidings  that  filled  our  hearts  with  joy.  We 
were  going  home — back  to  our  beloved  Ameri- 
ca; and  when  our  joyful  eyes  beheld  the  shores 
of  the  home-land,  my  only  regret  was  for  the 
comrades  we  had  buried  under  the  drooping 
palm  trees  on  the  hills  of  Santiago. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  31 


CHAPTER  III. 


I  SAIL  FOR  MANILA. 

We  folded  our  tents  in  Cuba  only  to  unfold 
them  on  the  other  side  of  the  world.  President 
McKinley  called  for  volunteers  in  the  summer 
of  1899.  On  our  return  to  the  United  States  at 
the  close  of  the  Santiago  campaign,  Colonel 
Sargent,  with  his  volunteer  regiment,  was  or- 
dered to  Camp  Meade,  Pennsylvania,  where  the 
regiment  was  mustered  out,  and  soon  after  this 
he  was  commissioned  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  the 
29th  Volunteers,  Colonel  Hardin's  regiment. 
This  regiment  was  recruited  at  Fort  McPherson, 
Georgia,  for  service  in  the  Philippine  Islands. 
A  number  of  officers  and  men  who  had  been  in 
Colonel  Sargent's  regiment  at  Santiago  went 
with  the  29th  Infantry  to  the  Philippines. 

When  I  realized  that  there  remained  no  hope 
of  a  peaceful  home  in  a  garrison  in  the  United 
States,  I  thought  of  these  words — 

"The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the 
birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but 
the  Son  of  Man  has  not  where  to 
lay  his  head." 

This  seemed  to  me  to  apply  forcibly  to  army 


32  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

people,  especially  to  army  wives,  for  we  seemed 
to  have  become  homeless  wanderers  on  the  face 
of  the  earth. 

The  29th  sailed  for  the  Philippines  in  October, 
1899.  At  this  time  an  order  was  issued  forbid- 
ding army  women  passage  on  the  transports, 
and  the  outlook  was  certainly  discouraging. 
The  Oriental  Steamship  Company  came  to  the 
relief  of  the  dis-heartened  women,  however, 
with  an  offer  of  rates  to  Hong-Kong.  Needless 
to  say,  these  vessels  were  crowded,  and  I  had  to 
wait  two  months  after  I  applied  for  passage 
before  I  could  get  a  stateroom  and  start  on  my 
long  voyage  into  the  (to  me)  comparatively  un- 
known world  beyond  the  vast  Pacific. 

After  a  visit  of  two  months  with  friends  in 
Oregon  I  returned  to  San  Francisco  to  prepare 
for  my  long  voyage  to  Manila.  Late  in  the  af- 
ternoon of  my  last  day  in  the  city — (I  was  to 
sail  at  one  o'clock  on  the  following  day),  a 
cable  dispatch  was  received  telling  of  a  fight  at 
San  Mateo,  Island  of  Luzon,  in  which  General 
Lawton  had  been  killed.  There  were  no  details. 
I  knew  my  husband  was  with  General  Lawton, 
and  that  night  was  an  anxious  one  for  me. 
Early  the  next  morning,  when  I  opened  my  bed- 
room door,  I  found  the  morning  paper  propped 
against  it.  This  paper  gave  a  full  account  of 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  33 

the  fight  and  I  knew  my  husband  was  alive  and 
well. 

Part  of  the  29th  Volunteer  Infantry,  under 
command  of  Colonel  Sargent,  had  been  sent 
with  other  troops  to  drive  the  insurgents  out 
of  San  Mateo.  They  marched  all  night  through 
a  raging  typhoon  and  went  into  the  fight  soon 
after  daylight.  Here  brave  General  Lawton 
was  killed,  and  after  his  death  Colonel  Sargent 
was  in  command  of  the  attacking  forces. 

During  my  stay  in  San  Francisco  I  made  my 
home  at  the  old  Occidental  Hotel,  headquarters 
for  people  of  the  army  and  navy  when  passing 
through  that  city.  The  lessee,  Major  Hooper, 
was  a  most  generous  and  kindly  man.  He  had 
a  warm  place  in  his  heart  for  us  army  women, 
and  realized  the  anxieties  we  often  had  to  en- 
dure. How  he  had  a  knowledge  of  all  our  in- 
comings and  outgoings  I  could  never  under- 
stand, but  I  doubt  if  any  army  women  ever  left 
the  Occidental  without  receiving  the  gift  of  a 
dainty  basket  of  lunch  and  a  bouquet  of  beauti- 
ful flowers.  It  was  this  thoughtful  kindness 
that  had  prompted  the  placing  of  the  morning 
paper  at  my  door  after  my  anxious  night.  The 
Occidental  Hotel  was  destroyed  in  the  great 
earthquake  and  fire  in  San  Francisco. 

On  December  21st  I  sailed  away  on  a  big 
white  ship,  the  America-Maru,  for  Hong-Kong. 


34  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Seven  days  out  from  San  Francisco  we  ran  into 
the  harbor  of  Honolulu,  only  to  learn  that  the 
bubonic  plague  was  raging  to  such  an  extent 
that  all  passengers  bound  for  ports  farther  on 
were  forbidden  to  go  ashore.  All  that  I  saw  of 
beautiful  Honolulu  and  the  Hawaiian  Islands 
I  saw  from  the  deck  of  the  ship. 

It  was  a  long  voyage  from  there  to  Yoko- 
hama, with  nothing  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see 
on  every  hand  but  the  vast  expanse  of  sea  and 
sky,  with  never  a  sail  in  sight,  and  only  an  oc- 
casional flying  fish  to  relieve  the  monotony  of 
the  scene.  Christmas  and  New  Year's  we  spent 
on  the  ocean. 

We  dropped  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Yoko- 
hama in  the  night,  and  when  I  went  on  deck  in 
the  morning  the  first  sight  to  greet  my  eyes 
was  wonderful  Fujuama,  the  Japanese  sacred 
mountain,  piercing  the  blue  sky,  an  almost  per- 
fect cone,  the  top  gleaming  white  with  snow. 
It  is  the  belief  of  the  Japanese  that  one  night, 
centuries  ago,  this  mountain  arose  from  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.  Every  summer  hundreds  of 
pilgrims  toil  to  the  summit  to  make  offerings 
to  the  gods. 

It  was  now  January,  and  the  air  was  piercing 
and  cold,  although  it  seemed  a  summer  land- 
scape. We  were  to  remain  here  until  noon  on 
the  following  day,  and  all  the  passengers  went 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  35 

ashore  to  see  the  city.  To  take  a  ride  in  a  jin- 
rikisha  through  the  streets  of  Yokohoma  re- 
pays one  for  the  long  voyage.  Everything  is 
interesting — the  little  people,  the  tiny  houses 
and  shops  of  bamboo  and  paper,  the  shops  filled 
with  beautiful  hand-carved  cabinets  of  native 
woods,  embroidered  and  lacquered  screens,  ex- 
quisite pieces  in  cloisonne,  satsuma  and  bronze, 
and  embroideries  in  silk  and  linen,  which  could 
be  purchased  for  a  song,  compared  to  the  prices 
we  have  to  pay  on  this  side.  Japanese  children 
fairly  swarmed  on  the  streets,  nearly  every 
child  having  upon  its  back,  in  a  sort  of  a  shawl, 
another  child  almost  as  large.  I  have  seen  these 
quaint  little  folks,  playing  at  their  games,  each 
seemingly  oblivious  of  the  child  hanging  on  be- 
hind. "v:7j 
After  leaving  Yokohama  we  stopped  at  Kobe, 
Nagasaki  and  Shanghai,  passing  through  the 
beautiful  Inland  Sea  of  Japan.  Mere  words 
cannot  picture  the  marvelous  beauties  of  this 
Inland  Sea;  all  day  long  the  big  ship  threaded 
her  way  in  and  out  among  the  emerald  green 
islands.  It  requires  most  skillful  engineering 
to  guide  a  ship  safely  through  this  sea,  and  our 
captain  never  left  the  bridge,  his  meals  being 
served  to  him  there.  At  Nagasaki  the  ship  took 
on  a  supply  of  coal,  the  work  being  done  almost 
entirely  by  native  women,  some  working  all  day 


36  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

long  with  their  almond-eyed  babies  hanging  on 
their  backs. 

We  reached  Hong-Kong  on  January  18th, 
twenty-nine  days  from  San  Francisco.  Here  I 
had  to  wait  three  days  for  a  ship  to  Manila,  but 
found  the  time  short,  for  there  was  much  to  see. 
The  air  was  mild  and  balmy,  with  flowers  and 
foliage  everywhere ;  it  was  "shirt  waist"  weath- 
er in  Hong-Kong.  Here  were  the  same  tempta- 
tions in  the  shops  filled  with  wonderfully  beau- 
tiful things.  All  along  the  sidewalk  on  a  certain 
street  was  the  flower  market,  where  masses  of 
flowers  in  bunches  and  baskets  were  displayed ; 
here  one  could  get  a  huge  bunch  of  beautiful 
roses  or  long-stemmed  feathery  chrysanthe- 
mums for  the  small  sum  of  twenty  cents. 

In  the  harbor  were  two  big  British  battle- 
ships, and  in  the  evening  one  could  hear  the 
bands  playing  on  deck  and  the  notes  of  the 
bugles  floating  across  the  water. 

The  British  soldiers  stationed  in  the  city  were 
another  attraction,  and  I  crossed  the  bay  to 
see  them  drill.  This  drill  I  found  very  similar 
to  our  own,  but  the  uniforms  were  very  dif- 
ferent, consisting  of  very  dark  blue  trousers, 
scarlet  tight  fitting  jackets  and  white  helmets. 
The  Sikhs,  or  Indian  policemen,  were  to  me  one 
of  the  most  picturesque  sights  in  Hong-Kong. 
They  were  splendid  big  fellows  in  dark  uni- 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  37 

forms  with  immense  turbans  of  scarlet  cloth. 

I  went  in  a  jinrikisha  to  the  cemetery  or 
"Happy  Valley,"  as  it  is  called,  two  miles  from 
the  city.  It  was  like  a  park,  with  trees  and 
masses  of  flowers  and  splashing  fountains  ev- 
erywhere, while  under  the  trees  were  comfort- 
able seats  where  one  could  sit  and  enjoy  the 
beauties  of  the  place. 

The  City  of  Hong-Kong  is  built  along  the 
foot  and  on  the  side  of  a  huge  hill,  commonly 
called  the  "Queen's  Hill."  The  view  from  an 
observatory  on  the  extreme  summit  is  very 
beautiful.  Cars  run  part  way  up  the  hill  like 
a  fly  crawling  up  a  wall.  To  reach  the  summit, 
however,  one  must  be  carried  by  coolies  in  a 
sedan  chair. 

The  fine  weather,  with  which  we  had  been 
blessed  all  the  long  way  over  from  San  Fran- 
cisco, continued  during  the  three  days'  run  to 
Manila,  and  early  on  the  morning  of  January 
24th,  thirty-four  days  from  San  Francisco,  I 
went  ashore,  and  "with  malice  toward  none, 
with  charity  for  all,"  I  took  up  the  burden  of 
my  life  among  the  Filipinos. 

Here  was  a  strange  world,  a  strange  people, 
strange  customs.  For  more  than  three  hundred 
years  the  old  city  had  kept  her  watch  by  the 
sea.  Divided  into  two  parts  by  the  Pasig  River, 
the  more  ancient  part  lies  on  the  south  bank 


38  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

and  within  the  walls  of  old  Fort  Santiago.  This, 
with  its  huge  gateways,  its  moat  and  draw- 
bridges, was  a  most  fascinating  place.  My  home 
was  for  several  months  with  a  Spanish  family 
within  the  wall.  Here  can  still  be  seen  ruins 
of  great  stone  buildings,  wrecked  by  the  terri- 
ble earthquake  of  1880.  For  months  I  never 
tired  of  driving  on  the  streets  of  Manila.  To 
drive  on  the  Escolta,  the  principal  business 
street,  was  oftentimes  a  hazardous  undertaking, 
for  it  was  literally  a  jam  of  carriages,  caraboa 
carts,  and  many  other  queer  vehicles;  and  as 
these  people  have  no  regard  for  the  rights  of 
others,  one  was  in  constant  danger  of  having  a 
wheel  taken  off  or  of  being  driven  into  by  a 
Filipino  cochero. 

In  the  evening  it  seemed  as  if  all  Manila 
turned  out  to  drive  or  walk  on  the  Luneta,  the 
popular  driveway  along  the  beach,  to  listen  to 
the  bands  and  to  see  the  beautiful  sunsets.  The 
breezes  that  blew  across  the  bay  were  cool  and 
refreshing,  and  the  sunsets  beautiful  beyond 
description. 

In  Manila  were  representatives  from  many 
parts  of  the  world.  Here  I  had  an  opportunity 
for  observing  the  Spanish  soldiers  even  more 
closely  than  at  Santiago,  living,  as  I  did,  just 
across  a  narrow  street  from  the  barracks  where 
they  were  quartered  awaiting  transportation 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  39 

back  to  their  beloved  Spain.  I  found  them  still 
the  same  quiet,  sober,  well-behaved  soldiers. 
There  was  never  any  loud  or  boisterous  talking, 
drunkenness  or  rude  behavior. 

The  Tagalos  are  small  and  brown ;  the  women 
are,  as  a  rule,  much  better  looking  than  the 
men,  having  more  regular  features  and  more 
pleasing  countenances.  They  have  very  pretty 
hair,  long,  black  and  glossy,  which  they  wash 
almost  daily.  Men  and  women  alike  seem  de- 
voted to  their  little  ones,  and  are  very  demon- 
strative, kissing  and  caressing  them ;  yet  I  have 
seen  but  one  native  woman  who  wept  on  the 
death  of  her  child.  A  funeral  seemed  usually 
more  an  occasion  for  rejoicing,  where  they  could 
wear  their  best  clothes  and  smoke  their  biggest 
cigars.  Men,  women,  and  even  little  children, 
smoke,  and  I  have  seen  wee  girls  not  more  than 
three  years  old  smoking  cigarettes  with  as 
much  gusto  as  a  grown  man. 

Infantry,  artillery  and  cavalry  were  stationed 
throughout  the  city.  The  now  familiar  khaki 
uniform  was  everywhere  to  be  seen,  and  the 
tramp,  tramp,  of  the  sentinel  could  be  heard 
at  all  hours  of  the  night,  bringing  that  sense  of 
security  which  nothing  else  could  give,  for  all 
was  not  sunshine  in  these  sunny  islands.  The 
war,  insurrection,  rebellion,  or  whatever  one 
might  choose  to  call  it,  was  not  over. 


40  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Summer  brought  with  it  fresh  anxieties  and 
responsibilities,  and  regiments  then  on  duty  in 
the  islands  were  ordered  to  join  the  allied  forces 
in  China.  Here  were  men  who  had  fought  un- 
der the  scorching  sun  and  in  the  drenching  rain 
at  Santiago;  in  the  dark  and  tangled  jungles  of 
Luzon,  and  who  were  yet  to  fight  and  die  before 
the  walls  of  Tien  Tsin  and  Peking.  There  were 
heavy  hearts  in  old  Manila  when  they  sailed 
away — heavy  hearts  for  many  weary  days  and 
weeks  for  the  mothers,  wives,  sisters  and  sweet- 
hearts who  had  been  left  behind.  There  are 
some  of  us  who  will  never  forget  the  night 
when  the  message  came  across  the  water,  tell- 
ing of  the  fearful  fight  before  the  walls  of 
Tien  Tsin,  with  its  gruesome  list  of  killed  and 
wounded. 

Watching  detachments  leaving  Manila  for  an 
expedition  into  the  wilderness  after  insurgents, 
I  was  always  impressed  with  the  firm  and  man- 
ly way  the  the  men  had  of  looking  straight 
ahead.  There  was  never  any  careless  lounging 
or  looking  from  side  to  side.  I  used  to  feel  that 
in  each  man's  mind  was  the  same  thought  that 
was  in  my  own — some  one  would  never  come 
back ;  who  in  that  little  band  would  be  the  mark 
for  an  insurgent's  bullet? 

Eighteen  months  spent  among  the  Filipinos 
brought  many  changes  in  my  estimate  of  their 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  41 

character  and  less  of  charity  in  my  feelings. 

While  in  Manila  in  1900  I  was,  for  a  short 
time,  correspondent  for  an  Illinois  newspaper, 
The  Carlinville  Democrat.  In  looking  through 
an  old  scrapbook  I  have  found  the  following 
letter  which  gives  an  insight  into  conditions 
around  Manila  at  that  time: 

"Manila,  P.  L,  Aug.  20,  1900. 
Dear  Editor  Democrat: 

Many  things  have  happened  since  I  wrote  you 
last.  Many  who  were  with  us  then  will  be  with 
us  no  more  forever.  The  white  man's  burden 
has  grown  heavier  as  time  has  passed  on.  Now 
it  is  war  with  China,  and  the  little  handful  of 
Americans  who  fought  with  the  allied  forces  at 
Tien  Tsin  have  been  weighed  in  the  balance  and 
not  found  wanting.  I  saw  them  march  away  in 
their  bright  new  uniforms  with  swinging  step, 
proud  to  be  the  first  called  to  join  the  allied 
forces;  glad  to  leave  behind  them  the  tiresome 
work  in  the  Philippines.  But,  alas,  that  this 
should  be !  A  regiment  depleted  and  worn  with 
sickness  after  more  than  a  year's  service  in 
this  tropical  country,  they  were  thrown  into 
the  breach  before  Taku  gate  where  ror  twelve 
long  hours  they  fought  for  their  lives.  How 
bravely,  all  know.  Here  brave  Col.  Liscomb 
died  with  the  colors  in  his  hand,  and  many  more 
gallant  souls  who  marched  so  proudly  away  will 
never  come  back  again.  For  them 

The  muffled  drum's  sad  roll  has  beat 
The  soldier's  last  tattoo.' 


42  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

And  the  mothers,  wives  and  sisters  of  these 
men,  what  of  them?  Tears  and  heart-ache  for 
the  son  who  has  answered  his  last  roll  call  un- 
til the  final  trumpet  shall  sound.  Tears  and 
heartache  for  the  husband  buried  under  foreign 
skies  in  a  far-away  land.  Tears  and  heartache 
for  the  brother  who  will  never  come  marching 
home  again.  Anxiety  and  sleepless  nights  and 
prayers  for  those  still  marching  on.  And  this 
is  war!  Ghastly  and  grim  indeed,  pushing  on- 
ward and  leaving  its  dead  behind. 

But  what  of  the  Philippines,  you  ask.  Is  the 
war  over?  Look  to  the  north  and  what  do  we 
find?  Under  tangled  masses  of  green  vines  and 
brilliant  flowers  lies  a  rigid,  bullet-riddled  fig- 
ure, a  signal  sergeant  ambushed  and  killed 
while  at  his  work.  From  the  south  comes  the 
rumor  of  almost  daily  encounters  with  the  en- 
emy. From  the  east  comes  the  story  of  a  young 
army  surgeon  with  an  escort  of  eleven  men  at- 
tacked and  killed  by  insurgents.  The  west  has 
its  sad  tale  of  a  bright  young  officer,  scarcely 
more  than  a  boy,  and  two  brave  men,  captured 
or  killed  by  insurgents.  Many  plots  to  burn  and 
loot  the  city  have  been  unearthed. 

These  are  the  things  that  are  happening  all 
around  us.  Our  'little  brown  brothers'  are  busy, 
and  the  war  in  the  Philippines  is  not  over.  We 
can  but  ask,  when  will  the  end  come  and  what 
will  the  harvest  be.  Have  we  been  sowing  to 
the  wind,  and  must  we  reap  the  whirlwind? 

The  rainy  season,  the  most  disagreeable  part 
of  the  year  in  the  islands,  is  upon  us.  It  was 
ushered  in  by  a  typhoon,  one  of  the  terrific 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  43 

storms  prevalent  in  these  waters.  The  storm 
lasted  five  days,  and  the  very  flood  gates  of 
heaven  were  turned  open,  so  terrible  was  the 
downpour,  while  the  howling-  wind  and  the  boom 
of  the  great  waves  on  the  beach  made  it  a  thing 
long  to  be  remembered.  And  as  I  write,  an- 
other storm,  almost  as  severe  as  the  first,  is 
raging  outside.  The  bay  is  a  boiling,  seething 
cauldron,  and  when  the  U.  S.  transport  Grant 
from  the  states  dropped  anchor  in  the  harbor 
some  days  ago  it  was  impossible  to  reach  her  to 
bring  in  the  passengers  and  mail. 

Alice  A.  Sargent." 

When  conditions  in  the  Islands  improved  the 
29th  Volunteer  Infantry  was  ordered  to  the 
United  States  to  be  mustered  out  of  the  service, 
but  Colonel  Sargent  remained  on  duty  in  Man- 
ila as  Judge  Advocate  of  the  Department  of 
Southern  Luzon. 

We  sailed  for  the  United  States  in  1901  on 
the  army  transport  Meade,  named  for  Major 
General  George  G.  Meade,  who  commanded  the 
Union  forces  at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg.  The 
Meade  was  at  that  time  the  longest  ship  that 
had  ever  sailed  into  the  harbor  at  San  Fran- 
cisco. Long  and  narrow,  the  Meade  was  a  roller 
in  time  of  a  storm. 

When  we  steamed  out  of  Manila  Bay,  leav- 
ing behind  us  the  troubled  islands,  it  was  hard 
to  realize  that  we  were  really  going  home.  Who, 


44  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

having  once  felt  the  charm  of  these  Oriental 
countries,  can  forget  or  deny  their  subtle  but  in- 
describable fascination?  Yet,  after  all,  the 
"Land  where  our  fathers  died"  is  the  land  for 
all  true  Americans. 

Besides  quite  a  number  of  soldiers  and  offi- 
cers with  their  families  the  Meade  carried  four 
hundred  sick  and  thirty-six  insane.  Conditions 
in  the  Islands  in  those  days  were  bad.  Sur- 
geons declared  much  of  the  insanity  among  the 
men  was  due  to  homesickness,  generally  among 
soldiers  stationed  in  small  outlying  camps  where 
there  were  no  mail  facilities  and  the  loneliness 
and  monotony  of  their  lives  were  more  than 
they  could  endure.  Medical  officers  were  of  the 
opinion  that  many  of  these  unfortunate  men 
would  recover.  Soldiers  on  the  march  or 
"hike,"  as  they  called  it,  endured  conditions 
fairly  well. 

When  our  long  voyage  was  almost  over  we 
encountered  a  terrific  storm  which  continued 
through  a  day  and  two  nights.  A  heavy  cable 
had  been  stretched  from  end  to  end  of  the  upper 
deck,  and  before  the  storm  reached  its  height 
one  could  go  out  on  the  deck,  and  holding  onto 
the  cable,  watch  the  storm.  I  was  so  filled  with 
awe  I  forgot  to  be  afraid.  It  seemed  to  me  I 
could  go  out  and  walk  on  the  waves,  so  thick 
and  oily  did  the  water  appear,  The  waves  ran 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  45 

"mountains  high"  and  the  good  ship  would  roll 
until  the  railing  along  the  deck  would  almost 
touch  the  water  and  it  seemed  the  ship  could 
never  right  itself,  but  over  it  would  roll  just  as 
far  the  other  way.  After  a  time  the  storm  in- 
creased in  fury  and  the  decks  were  battened 
down  and  I  did  not  dare  go  out  to  watch  the 
storm.  Strange  to  say,  I  was  not  at  all  sea 
sick  and  not  frightened  until  about  3  o'clock 
the  last  night  of  the  storm.  The  Colonel  was  in 
his  berth  very  sick ;  I  was  lying  on  the  couch  in 
our  stateroom,  when  all  at  once  the  ship  struck 
with  terrible  force  against  something  I  thought 
must  be  a  rock.  I  sprang  to  my  feet  with  a 
loud  cry,  the  big  ship  quivered  and  trembled 
and  shook.  I  waited  for  the  end,  but  after  a 
time  the  vessel  ceased  to  quiver  and  settled  back 
into  the  rolling  and  plunging  motion  it  had  kept 
up  for  many  hours. 

Some  of  the  ship's  officers  told  us  the  next 
day  that  they  too,  thought  for  a  time  that  the 
ship  had  struck  a  rock.  Later  they  decided  that 
the  shock  was  caused  by  the  ship  having  been 
driven  into  where  two  huge  waves  had  come 
together  with  terrific  force;  the  strain  on  the 
ship  was  almost  as  great  as  if  it  had  actually 
been  driven  onto  a  rock. 

This  storm  was  very  hard  on  our  sick  men. 
It  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  some  of  them 


46  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

from  being  thrown  from  their  beds,  so  weak 
and  helpless  were  they. 

By  morning  the  storm  was  over,  the  sun 
shone  on  a  fairly  smooth  expanse  of  water.  The 
Meade  had  made  a  gallant  fight  against  wind 
and  wave  and  had  come  through  victorious. 
The  Bible  tells  us  that  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful things  in  the  world  is  "the  way  of  a  ship  at 
sea."  The  truth  of  this  was  brought  home  to 
us  when  the  big  transport  came  safely  through 
that  terrible  storm. 

While  we  were  still  about  a  day  out  from  the 
San  Francisco  harbor,  one  of  the  sailors  said  to 
me  "we  have  a  pilot  on  board."  I  thought  it 
strange  a  pilot  boat  would  meet  us  so  far  out, 
but  the  sailor  hastened  to  explain  to  me  that 
the  "pilot"  was  a  bird.  These  birds  would  come 
out  to  meet  the  ships  and  accompany  them  into 
port,  and  their  coming  to  meet  the  transport 
was  looked  upon  by  the  sailors  as  a  good  omea 
We  sailed  into  port  without  further  mishap. 

Happy  were  we  when  we  stood  once  more  on 
the  shores  of  the  land  we  loved.  We  had  faced 
perils  and  hardships  in  those  far-off  Islands  of 
the  Philippines.  We  had  been  down  into  the 
depths  of  the  ocean,  imprisoned  in  a  plunging 
ship;  there  had  been  sickness,  sorrow,  despair, 
and  death,  but  an  all-merciful  Providence  had 
brought  us  safely  through.  We  dare  not  look 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  47 

backward,  but  always  forward,  otherwise  we 
could  not  hope  to  do  the  work  lying  farther  on. 

The  Colonel  was  granted  a  leave  of  absence 
and  we  went  to  Oregon  for  a  short  visit  with 
relatives,  then  on  to  Illinois  to  visit  the  Colonel's 
people  in  his  old  home  town  of  Carlinville,  then 
down  to  Florida  to  sail  again  for  Cuba,  for  the 
Colonel  was  to  rejoin  his  regular  regiment,  the 
2nd  U.  S.  Cavalry.  This  regiment  was  stationed 
near  Matanzas  in  the  Havana  province.  We 
went  on  board  ship  about  six  in  the  evening, 
and  morning  found  us  in  the  harbor  at  Havana. 

How  good  it  seemed  to  be  back  once  more 
with  the  old  regiment — what  a  joy  to  meet  the 
friends  we  had  not  seen  for  three  years.  What 
a  pleasure  to  hear  again  the  golden  notes  of  the 
trumpets,  and  to  see  the  prancing  horses.  My 
beautiful  Patsy  was  not  with  them.  We  had 
taken  him  with  us  when  we  went  to  Santiago. 
He  had  contracted  a  disease  of  the  eyes  com- 
mon to  horses  in  the  tropics,  and  had  lost  the 
sight  of  one  eye.  We  brought  him  back  to  the 
United  States  and  sent  him  to  the  Colonel's 
father,  where  he  could  live  a  life  of  ease  in  the 
green  meadows  on  the  old  home  farm.  He  fi- 
nally became  totally  blind.  While  we  were  in 
Manila  we  received  a  letter  from  the  Colonel's 
father  telling  us  Patsy  was  no  more.  Many 
were  the  tears  I  shed,  for  we  had  been  devoted 


48  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

comrades  for  many  years. 

Down  through  the  ages  the  horse  has  left 
his  hoofprints  on  the  pages  of  history.  What 
American  does  not  glow  with  pride  when  read- 
ing of  the  valiant  deeds  of  our  cavalry  at  the 
battle  of  Molino  del  Rey,  during  the  Mexican 
war.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  of  our  cavalry 
put  to  flight  two  thousand  Mexican  cavalry. 
When  our  trumpeters  sounded  the  thrilling  and 
soul-inspiring  notes  of  the  "charge,"  our  gallant 
two  hundred  and  fifty  went  in  under  a  wither- 
ing fire  from  the  Mexican  Infantry.  They  lost 
a  hundred  horses  and  many  men,  but  forty 
grand  old  cavalry  horses,  their  saddles  empty, 
kept  their  places  in  the  ranks  and  drove  ahead 
of  them  two  thousand  Mexican  cavalry. 

Read  Redington's  beautiful  story  of  "Bugler 
Brooks." 

When  the  troopers  of  the  1st  U.  S.  Cavalry 
charged  the  Nez  Perce  Indians  in  a  fight  at 
Camas  Meadows,  Idaho,  Bugler  Brooks  was 
shot  and  fell  from  his  saddle,  fatally  wounded. 
His  faithful  horse  dashed  on  for  a  time,  but 
realizing  that  his  young  master  was  not  in  the 
saddle,  he  dashed  back  to  where  the  boy  lay, 
standing  over  him,  he  whinnied  for  the  young 
soldier  to  mount.  Brooks  caught  hold  of  the 
stirrup  strap  and  pulled  himself  to  his  knees, 
then  fell  back  dead.  The  faithful  horse  circled 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  49 

around  the  lifeless  body,  champing  and  whinny- 
ing, then  stood  over  him  until  Brooks'  captain 
dashed  back  and  gathered  into  his  arms  the  life- 
less body — all  this  under  a  withering  fire  from 
the  Indian  warriors. 

Who  has  not  read  of  the  midnight  ride  of 
Paul  Revere,  and  reading  realized  that  without 
his  gallant  steed  the  message  that  saved  a  na- 
tion could  not  have  been  delivered. 

"A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 

A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 

And  beneath  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a 

spark 
Struck  out  by  a  steed  that  flies  fearless  and 

fleet: 
That  was  all !    And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and 

the  light, 

The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night; 
And  the  spark  struck  out  by  that  steed,  in  his 

flight, 
Kindled  the  land  into  flame  with  its  heat. 

"For,  borne  on  the  night-wind  of  the  Past, 

Through  all  our  history,  to  the  last, 

In  the  hour  of  darkness,  and  peril,  and  need, 

The  people  will  waken  to  listen  and  hear 

The  hurrying  hoof-beats  of  that  steed, 

And  the  midnight  message  of  Paul  Revere." 

One  could  go  on  indefinitely  citing  interest- 
ing and  thrilling  deeds  done  by  our  faithful 
friend,  the  horse,  but  I  will  close  my  eulogy 


50  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

with  a  quotation  from  the  book  of  Job,  Chapter 
39,  verses  21,  22  and  25. 

"He  paweth  in  the  valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his 

strength ; 
He  goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men — 

He  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not  affrighted; 
Neither  turneth  he  back  from  the  sword. 

He  saith  among  the  trumpets,  Ha,  Ha; 

And  he  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off, 

The  thunder  of  the  captains,  and  the  shouting." 

We  were  at  our  station  near  Matanzas  for 
about  seven  months  and  enjoyed  it  very  much. 
The  winter  climate  in  the  province  of  Havana 
was  ideal,  just  enough  snap  in  the  air  to  make 
it  bracing,  and  weeks  of  sunshine.  I  remember 
our  having  ripe  tomatoes  all  winter. 

In  the  early  spring  our  regiment  was  ordered 
to  the  United  States.  We  "rejoiced  with  ex- 
ceeding great  joy"  when  this  order  was  re- 
ceived. The  regiment  was  to  take  station  at 
Fort  Ethan  Allen,  Vermont.  All  American 
troops  in  Cuba  were  withdrawn  at  that  time. 

Fort  Ethan  Allen  was  an  attractive  station. 
All  the  buildings  were  of  brick.  We  were  on 
a  street  car  line  and  only  five  miles  from  the 
city  of  Burlington. 

There  was  an  immense  riding  hall,  built  of 
brick,  for  in  the  winter  the  snow  fell  quite  deep 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  51 

and  the  mercury  dropped  to  22  degrees  below 
zero,  when  the  drills  and  hurdle  jumping  took 
place  in  the  big  riding  hall.  Saturday  was  set 
aside  as  the  day  for  the  officers  and  their  wives, 
and  while  the  soldiers  occupied  the  gallery  as 
spectators,  as  we  did  the  hurdle  jumping.  I 
missed  my  beautiful  Patsy,  for  he  could  soar 
over  the  hurdles  like  a  bird.  I  rode  a  troop 
horse  called  "Brigadier."  "Brigadier"  could 
jump,  but  sometimes  objected  to  the  breast 
high  hurdle.  I  could  always  make  him  take  it, 
but  he  would  retaliate  by  kicking  his  heels  high 
in  the  air  as  soon  as  he  landed  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hurdle. 

Summer  at  Fort  Ethan  Allen  was  very  pleas- 
ant, but  when  winter  came  it  was  trying,  for 
we  had  all  been  for  quite  a  time  in  tropical 
countries.  The  following  spring  I  became  so  ill 
we  found  it  necessary  to  go  south. 

The  Colonel  was  given  a  detail  at  the  Agri- 
cultural and  Mechanical  College  of  Texas.  Our 
life  at  the  old  A.  and  M.  College  was  most  inter- 
esting and  enjoyable.  The  A.  and  M.  College  is 
a  military  school  and  the  Colonel  was  Com- 
mandant of  Cadets. 

David  F.  Houston,  afterwards  President 
Wilson's  Secretary  of  Agriculture,  was  at  that 
time  President  of  the  A.  and  M.  College.  We 
were  there  two  years  with  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hous- 


52  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

ton.  They  were  delightful  people  to  meet  and 
we  enjoyed  being  with  them.  Doctor  Houston 
and  the  Colonel,  at  that  time  a  captain,  became 
warm  friends.  When  their  day's  work  was  done 
they  would  repair  to  the  tennis  court  for  what 
they  called  a  "rattling"  game  of  tennis.  The 
cadets  were  a  fine  and  manly  lot  of  young  men, 
and  we  made  many  warm  friends  among  them, 
as  well  as  among  the  professors  and  their  fam- 
ilies. 

Five  miles  from  the  college  was  the  little  city 
of  Bryan.  The  people  of  Bryan  were  a  splendid 
class  of  people  and  we  enjoyed  them.  I  must 
not  forget  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Houston's  little  son 
Franklin,  then  about  four  years  of  age.  I  re- 
member that  he  was  an  attendant  at  Sunday 
School.  Franklin  had  become  much  interested 
in  search-lights.  This  was  the  year  of  the 
Exposition  at  St.  Louis,  and  Franklin  wanted 
very  much  to  go  to  the  exposition  to  see  a 
search-light.  He  asked  Doctor  Houston  to  tell 
him  all  about  search-lights ;  this  his  father  did. 
When  he  finished  Franklin  said,  "Now,  papa, 
tell  me  about  Israelites." 

The  detail  at  the  college  was  for  three  years, 
but  at  the  end  of  that  time  the  authorities  at 
the  college  asked  that  the  Colonel  be  allowed  to 
remain  a  year  longer.  The  War  Department 
granted  this  request.  In  the  meantime  the  2nd 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  S3 

Cavalry  was  ordered  to  leave  Fort  Ethan  Allen 
for  station  in  the  Philippine  Islands.  They  sailed 
from  New  York.  On  the  voyage  over  some 
of  the  regiment  left  the  transport  and  visited 
the  Pyramids.  It  was  hard  to  have  them 
go  without  us,  but  before  the  end  of  the 
Colonel's  detail  at  the  college  they  were  back 
in  the  United  States  with  station  at  Fort  Des 
Moines,  Iowa,  and  here  we  joined  them  later. 
At  the  end  of  the  four  years  at  the  A.  and  M. 
College  I  found  myself  well  and  strong  and  fit 
for  the  strenuous  Army  life. 

We  bade  farewell  to  our  many  warm  friends 
at  the  college  and  Bryan,  and  after  a  short  leave, 
joined  the  old  regiment  at  Des  Moines.  This 
was  a  regimental  post,  splendid  buildings  of 
brick,  and  a  beautiful  parade  ground.  We  were 
in  the  suburbs  of  the  city ;  street  cars  ran  out 
to  the  gate  of  the  garrison  and  the  country  was 
very  attractive.  Running  into  the  city  on  the 
street  cars  we  ran  through  cherry  orchards, 
the  branches  of  the  trees  almost  touching  the 
cars.  In  the  summer  the  parade  ground  was 
white  with  clover  blossoms.  But  in  contrast 
to  all  this  beauty,  we  experienced  some  fearful 
thunder  storms.  We  had  been  through  some 
hair-raising  storms  in  Cuba  and  Arizona,  but 
nothing  quite  so  bad  as  these  storms  at  Fort 
Des  Moines. 


54  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

In  the  winter  of  1907-1908  the  Ute  Indians 
made  trouble  and  settlers  asked  for  troops.  This 
was  at  Thunder  Butte,  South  Dakota.  The  en- 
tire 2d  Cavalry  was  ordered  to  South  Dakota, 
leaving  only  enough  soldiers  at  Fort  Des  Moines 
for  guard  and  garrison  duty. 

Some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  regi- 
ment for  South  Dakota  I  received  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  Lieut.  McCoy,  aide  to  President 
Roosevelt.  This  I  forwarded  immediately  to 
Colonel  Sargent. 

WHITE  HOUSE, 

WASHINGTON,  Nov.  5,  1907 
Dear  Major: 

The  President  has  just  finished  your  re- 
cent book  on  "Santiago"  and  is  most  in- 
terested in  it,  as  are  all  the  rest  of  us  who 
were  on  the  spot. 

It  is  the  first  cool  and  critical  work  on 
the  subject. 

You  will  be  ordered  to  Washington  soon 
for  temporary  duty.    Will  you  inform  me 
at  once  when  it  would  be  most  agreeable 
or  convenient  for  you  to  come. 
With  compliments 

Very  truly 

FRANK  R.  McCoy 
MAJOR  HERBT  SARGENT 
2d  U.  S.  Cav'y. 

After  forwarding  the  Washington  letter  to 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  55 

my  husband  I  wrote  to  Lieutenant  McCoy,  ex- 
plaining the  situation. 

As  soon  as  the  Colonel  received  Lieutenant 
McCoy's  letter  he  put  his  little  trunk  on  the 
back  of  a  mule,  and  rode  80  miles  before  he 
could  get  transportation  back  to  Fort  Des 
Moines.  We  were  greatly  puzzled  over  this 
order  requiring  Colonel  Sargent  to  go  to  Wash- 
ington,— naturally  we  could  form  no  idea  as  to 
the  nature  of  this  "temporary  duty"  at  the  na- 
tion's capitol. 

As  soon  as  the  Colonel  reached  home  we 
packed  our  trunks,  and  leaving  our  quarters  in 
the  care  of  our  faithful  colored  man,  we  took 
the  train  for  Washington.  Arrived  in  the  city, 
the  Colonel  reported  for  duty. 

President  Roosevelt  had  read  and  enjoyed  the 
Colonel's  "Campaign  of  Santiago  de  Cuba,"  and 
was  interested  in  meeting  and  talking  with  the 
author  of  the  book.  He  gave  the  Colonel  a 
dinner  at  the  White  House,  when  they  enjoyed 
"fighting  their  battles  over  again."  There  was 
a  luncheon  later  on  and  the  President  told  the 
Colonel  he  need  be  in  no  hurry  to  return  to 
Fort  Des  Moines,  that  he  could  remain  in 
Washington  for  two  weeks  longer  if  he  cared 
to  do  so.  We  were  anxious  to  return  to  our 
station,  and  were  in  Washington  only  a  few 
days  longer. 


56  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Some  time  later  all  the  regiment  was  ordered 
back  to  Fort  Des  Moines  with  the  exception 
of  one  troop.  This  troop  spent  the  winter  in  a 
cantonment  or  dugout  in  South  Dakota. 

In  the  spring  or  summer  of  1908  Colonel 
Sargent  was  ordered  to  Washington  to  take 
the  fourteen  months  course  in  the  Army  War 
College.  Every  year  officers  of  the  army  who 
had  distinguished  themselves  in  some  way  were 
given  this  fourteen  months  course  at  this 
college. 

Packing  our  household  goods  and  bidding  our 
friends  goodbye,  we  went  on  to  Washington. 

This  detail  was  interesting  and  enjoyable. 
Washington  is  our  most  beautiful  city.  The 
broad  streets  and  the  magnificent  old  trees  add 
to  the  charm.  There  were  many  interesting  and 
historic  places  to  visit.  We  met  many  distin- 
guished people,  and  attended  the  reception  giv- 
en by  President  Roosevelt  to  the  people  of  the 
Army  and  Navy  in  the  capitol. 

During  the  summer  all  the  officers  at  the 
Army  War  College  visited  the  battlefields  of 
the  Civil  War.  They  went  down  through  the 
valley  of  the  Shenandoah;  were  at  Antietam 
and  closed  their  very  interesting  trip  at  Gettys- 
burg. I  met  them  at  Gettysburg  and  spent  two 
most  interesting  days.  The  officers  had  been 
two  months  making  this  study  of  the  battles 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  57 

and  each  officer  was  required  to  give  an  account 
of  some  certain  battle,  so  this  trip  was  instruc- 
tive as  well  as  interesting.  I  have  always 
looked  back  on  my  visit  to  Gettysburg  with 
pleasure  and  later  wrote  the  following  sketch. 

GETTYSBURG 

It  was  my  good  fortune  some  years  ago,  to 
visit  the  battlefield  of  Gettysburg  and  to  stand 
on  that  historic  spot  where  Abraham  Lincoln 
stood  when  he  delivered  his  immortal  address. 

We  can  all  recall  his  words,  "The  world  will 
little  note  we  long  remember  what  we  say 
here,"  and  yet  we  realize  that  these  words  of 
Abraham  Lincoln's  will  be  remembered  as  long 
as  our  nation  shall  endure. 

The  battle  line  at  Gettysburg  was  twenty- 
five  miles  long.  Along  the  crest  of  a  hill,  in 
the  edge  of  the  woods,  the  old  Confederate 
cannons  are  all  in  place — from  this  point  one 
can  look  down  over  the  grassy  slope  where 
General  Pickett  sacrificed  the  very  flower  of 
the  Southern  Army  in  that  last  desperate 
charge.  Bronze  tablets  mark  the  positions  of 
the  different  divisions,  and  splendid  monuments 
stand  in  memory  of  the  men  of  the  brigades 
who  fought  so  gallantly  and  died  so  gloriously 
that  our  nation  might  live. 
There  are  perhaps  one  hundred  and  eighty 


58  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

beautiful  monuments  on  the  battlefield. 

From  the  monument  on  Little  Round  Top  I 
looked  down  over  the  valley  of  death.  But 
looking  through  the  summer  haze,  with  the  air 
sweet  with  the  perfume  of  the  wild  honey- 
suckle, it  was  impossible  to  vision  the  scene  of 
carnage  that  had  taken  place  in  the  valley  be- 
iow  me  on  those  memorable  days  in  July,  1863. 

The  town  of  Gettysburg  is  a  quaint  old 
place.  Many  of  the  buildings  are  battle  scarred, 
for  the  old  town  received  its  baptism  of  fire. 
On  the  outskirts  stands  a  little  gray  cottage. 
This  cottage  was  once  the  home  of  Jennie  Wade, 
the  only  woman  killed  in  the  battle  of  Gettys- 
burg. On  that  second  dreadful  day,  when  the 
troops  fought  through  the  town,  this  cottage 
stood  between  the  lines.  In  the  panel  of  the 
old  front  door  is  a  round  hole  made  by  the  bullet 
which  killed  nineteen  year  old  Jennie  Wade.  A 
small  room  in  the  little  gray  cottage  is  used  as 
a  museum.  There  are  many  interesting  relics 
from  the  battlefield,  but  most  interesting 
among  the  articles  in  the  little  room  is  a  pic- 
ture of  Jennie  Wade,  an  old  time  daguerreotype. 
Pretty  Jennie's  soldier  sweetheart  was  killed  in 
battle  two  days  before  her  death.  In  the  ceme- 
tery of  the  old  town  her  body  lies,  and  above 
her  grave  stands  a  pillar  of  white  marble 
surmounted  by  the  figure  of  a  young  girl.  This 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  59 

monument  was  placed  there  by  the  women  of 
Ohio,  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of  sweet  faced 
Jennie  Wade. 

Long  years  have  passed  since  those  trying 
days,  and  with  their  passing  the  wounds  of 
our  nation  have  been  healed. 

In  the  cool  of  the  summer  evenings,  when 
the  setting  sun  shines  in  long  rays  of  light 
across  the  battlefield,  the  good  people  of  the 
old  town  bring  their  chairs  out  onto  the  nar- 
row brick  sidewalks,  and  sit  in  friendly  con- 
versation until  night  falls  over  Gettysburg. 

"For  the  sweet  winds  of  peace  down  the  high- 
ways are  blowing, 

And  songbirds  are  singing  where  bullets  once 
sped. 

The  wheat  and  the  corn  in  the  old  fields  are 
growing, 

In  soil  once  hallowed  by  blood  of  the  dead." 

In  the  spring  of  1909  the  Colonel  had  fin- 
ished his  detail  at  the  Army  War  College,  and 
we  again  packed  our  household  goods  and  joined 
the  2nd  Cavalry  at  San  Francisco. 


60  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 


CHAPTER  IV. 
MY  SECOND  VOYAGE. 

On  the  6th  day  of  December,  1909,  I  sailed 
on  the  big  army  transport  Logan  for  the 
Philippine  Islands.  This  was  my  second  voyage, 
but  in  this  case,  instead  of  starting  on  the  long 
voyage  alone,  as  far  as  any  friends  or  ac- 
quaintances were  concerned,  I  went  with  my 
husband  and  his  regiment,  the  grand  old  2nd 
Cavalry,  Colonel  Frank  West  commanding.  The 
entire  regiment,  headquarters  and  band,  were 
on  the  Logan.  Our  destination  was  the  Island 
of  Mindanao,  one  of  the  southern  islands,  and 
the  second  largest  in  the  Philippine  group. 

We  carried  a  Christmas  tree  from  San  Fran- 
cisco, for  on  the  Logan  were  twenty-five  chil- 
dren. 

The  wireless  was  in  operation  in  1909,  and  as 
we  entered  the  straits  of  Mindanao,  a  favorite 
resort  of  pirates  in  days  gone  by,  we  began  to 
get  orders  from  army  headquarters  in  Manila 
designating  the  stations  of  the  different  squad- 
rons, for  our  regiment  was  to  garrison  a  num- 
ber of  different  stations  in  Mindanao. 

Into  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  the  message 
was  cast  in  Manila,  and  out  of  the  blue  vault  of 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  61 

heaven  the  message  was  received  by  our  wire- 
less operator  in  his  little  cabin  on  the  upper 
deck  of  the  big  transport. 
My  diary  follows. 

DIARY  OF  MRS.  H.  H.  SARGENT 

ARMY  TRANSPORT  LOGAN, 
SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

December  6th  1909. 

Sailed  at  12  o'clock  noon  for  Philippine 
Islands,  2nd  U.  S.  Cavalry,  bound  for  southern 
station.  Rough  and  looking  like  a  storm.  About 
three  in  afternoon  ran  into  a  very  rough  sea. 
Had  a  bad  storm  which  lasted  through  the 
night.  All, — or  nearly  all — passengers  were 
sick.  Decks  running  with  water.  Surely  the 
Lord  looks  after  those  who  "go  down  to  the 
sea  in  ships." 

Tuesday,  December  7,  1909. 

Sea  a  bit  smoother  this  morning.  Everybody 
feeling  better.  Sun  shining  as  I  write.  I  was  a 
bit  sick  last  night  for  a  short  time  and  spoiled 
my  previous  good  record  by  succumbing  to  the 
complaint  and  parting  very  reluctantly  with  my 
dinner. 

Wednesday,  December  8,  1909. 

Waves  are  running  high  this  morning  and 


62  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

some  of  our  passengers  are  still  confined  to 
their  staterooms.  I  was  awakened  last  night 
by  the  howling  of  the  wind  and  roaring  of  the 
waves.  The  ship  rolled  and  rocked  and  tossed 
like  a  cork  on  the  heaving  ocean.  Had  a  light 
breakfast  this  A.  M.  and  feel  fine. 

Thursday,  December  9,  1909. 

Sea  a  little  smoother  this  morning,  cloudy  but 
pleasant  temperature.  Have  had  breakfast, — 
two  oranges,  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  slice  of  toast. 
Feeling  well.  All  passengers  hoping  for  better 
weather.  A  number  still  quite  sick.  Soldiers 
in  bad  shape  as  sea  was  very  rough  yesterday 
afternoon.  Guard  hardly  able  to  do  duty — a 
pretty  rough  voyage  so  far. 

Friday,  December  10,  1909. 

Gale  blowing  this  A.  M.  White  caps  form- 
ing. Not  pleasant  out  on  deck.  Everybody 
much  better  in  health  and  men  drilling  on  deck 
below  us. 

Had  grapefruit  for  breakfast  and  feel  more 
cheerful.  We  are  away  behind  on  account  of 
heavy  seas.  Will  not  reach  Honolulu  for  several 
days.  Hope  to  stop  there  long  enough  to  go 
ashore  and  see  the  city. 

Saturday,  December  11,  1909. 
Sea    comparatively    smooth    this    morning. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  63 

Passengers  all  looking  brighter.  Yesterday 
afternoon  we  passed  the  transport  Thomas.  A 
number  of  the  passengers  received  wireless 
messages  from  the  Thomas.  The  sun  came  up 
in  splendor,  but  the  rain  poured  down  soon  af- 
ter and  it  is  quite  cloudy  now.  We  hope  to 
reach  Honolulu  Tuesday  morning  and  expect  to 
remain  there  over  night.  Saturday  morning 
inspection  is  now  going  on.  Vaccinated  yes- 
terday afternoon. 

Sunday,  December  12,  1909. 

Sunny  and  bright  this  A.  M.  Sea  is  rather 
rough,  but  every  one  feeling  much  better.  We 
are  to  have  services  this  morning  in  the  din- 
ing salon.  Sea  was  rough  last  night,  causing 
a  very  peculiar  motion  of  the  ship  and  making 
my  bed  in  the  upper  berth  a  very  uncomfort- 
able place.  This  reminded  me  of  Mark  Twain's 
advice  to  those  who  feel  a  desire  to  travel — 
"Pack  a  suit  case,  put  some  stale  cake  and 
sandwiches  into  a  shoe  box  and  go  to  bed  on 
the  top  shelf  in  the  pantry."  I  sleep — or  try 
to  sleep — on  the  "top  shelf"  in  our  state  room. 

Monday,  December  13,  1909. 

A  beautiful  morning  and  sea  smoother  than 
at  any  time  since  we  sailed.  Passengers  all  in 
good  spirits.  Following  along  in  our  wake  is 


64  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

the  liner  "Asia."  It  seems  good  to  see  an- 
other ship  on  this  vast  expanse  of  water.  Had 
some  music  in  the  dining  salon  last  night. 
Every  one  busy  writing  letters  today  as  we 
hope  to  reach  Honolulu  early  tomorrow  where 
they  can  be  mailed  to  our  friends  at  home. 

Tuesday,  December  14,  1909. 

Reached  Honolulu  early  this  morning  and  are 
coaling  the  transport  for  the  long  voyage  to 
the  Philippines.  This  morning  we  went  ashore 
and  spent  the  forenoon  looking  through  the 
shops.  Found  many  beautiful  and  curious 
things.  This  afternoon  we  expect  to  take  an 
auto  ride  through  the  city  and  country.  There 
is  to  be  a  dance  in  a  hotel  in  town  for  the 
transport's  passengers.  Weather  beautiful.  Air 
mild  and  balmy. 

Wednesday,  December  15,  1909. 

Beautiful  today  and  we  are  still  in  port,  but 
are  to  sail  this  afternoon  at  four.  The  Ha- 
waiian Band  has  just  come  on  deck  to  give  us 
a  farewell  concert.  We  went  to  the  dance  at 
the  Young  Hotel  last  night,  but  did  not  stay 
long.  The  music  was  good  and  the  floor  fine. 
This  forenoon  we  did  some  shopping  and  came 
on  board  laden  with  packages,  flowers  and 
plants.  I  have  a  big  bunch  of  red  carnations 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  65 

in  my  stateroom.     Everybody  in  good  spirits 
and  feeling  fine.    This  is  a  beautiful  place. 

Before  our  transport  left  the  harbor  of  Ha- 
waii the  native  band  came  on  board  and  gave 
a  concert  which  we  all  enjoyed.  A  Hawaiian 
woman  sang  two  native  melodies;  the  last  one 
— Alohoa — was  most  beautiful.  We  all  wore 
around  our  necks  long  chains  or  wreaths  of 
flowers,  "lai"  the  natives  call  them.  Our  stop 
at  Honolulu  will  long  be  remembered  with 
pleasure.  This  evening  I  could  lie  on  the 
couch  in  my  stateroom  and  watch  the  sun  sink 
into  the  ocean.  We  are  all  tired  after  two 
strenuous  days  on  shore. 

Thursday,  December  16,  1909. 

White  caps  this  morning,  but  glorious  sun- 
shine and  summer  air.  We  have  before  us  a 
long  voyage  as  our  next  stop  will  be  the  Island 
of  Guam. 

Nine  days  until  Christmas.  I  am  looking 
forward  to  opening  my  Christmas  box  with  as 
much  pleasure  as  a  child.  This  will  be  the 
second  Christmas  I  have  spent  on  the  Pacific 
ocean.  Passengers  seem  in  good  spirits  and 
are  almost  all  out  on  deck,  enjoying  the  sun- 
shine. Growing  warm,  but  not  uncomfortably 
so, 


66  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Friday,  December  17,  1909. 

A  bright  and  beautiful  morning — sea  a  bit 
rough,  but  "deeply,  darkly,  beautifully  blue." 
— Down  on  the  lower  deck  the  men  are  at 
drill,  going  through  the  setting-up  exercises. 
Our  voyage  is  half  over,  for  which  I  feel  truly 
thankful.  Even  with  good  weather  and  excel- 
lent company  the  voyage  is  becoming  a  bit 
monotonous. 

Saturday,  December  18,  1909. 

Cloudy  this  morning.  Sea  fairly  smooth. 
Have  had  breakfast,  hot  cakes  and  coffee. 

There  are  rumors  of  a  dance  on  the  lower 
deck  tonight.  Last  evening  the  band  gave  a 
very  enjoyable  concert.  Many  of  the  pas- 
sengers complain  of  the  heat,  but  so  far  I  have 
not  found  it  unpleasant.  I  am  wondering  how 
we  will  find  living  among  the  Moros,  as  com- 
pared with  life  among  the  Cubans  and  Filip- 
pinos.  It  will  be  an  entirely  new  experience 
for  me. 

Sunday,  December  19,  1909. 

A  beautiful  morning.  We  are  to  'have  ser- 
vices in  the  dining  salon  at  10  o'clock.  There 
was  a  dance  last  night  in  which  the  majority 
of  the  passengers  participated.  We  danced  on 
the  deck  and  enjoyed  it  very  much,  The 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  67 

night  was  an  ideal  one,  the  moon  made  a  path 
of  silver  across  the  ocean,  and  the  stars 
gleamed  brightly.  We  looked  for  the  Southern 
Cross,  but  failed  to  find  it.  Went  to  bed  at 
eleven  and  slept  sweetly  "rocked  in  the  cradle 
of  the  deep." 

Tuesday,  December  21,  1909. 

Clear  and  bright  with  a  smooth  sea  and  a 
fresh  breeze.  Last  night  we  crossed  the  180th 
degree  of  longitude,  hence  losing  a  day,  Mon- 
day the  20th. 

Only  four  days  until  Christmas.  Last  night 
the  moon  shone  brightly,  the  sky  was  clear  of 
clouds  and  altogether  it  was  a  perfect  night. 
We  are  now  almost  half  way  to  Guam. 

These  long  voyages  are  certainly  a  trial  of 
patience,  but  "sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof."  To  take  each  day  as  it  comes 
and  make  the  best  of  it,  is  the  true  philosophy 
of  life  and  the  only  way  to  endure  these  long 
voyages. 

Wednesday,  December  22,  1909. 

Clear  and  much  warmer  this  morning.  We 
had  quite  a  shower  last  night. 

Great  preparations  are  going  on  for  the 
children's  Christmas  tree.  Some  of  the  little 
folks  are  wondering  how  Santa  Claus  can  get 


68  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

on  the  ship,  how  the  reindeers  can  cross  all 
this  water.  We  are  all  hoping  for  clear  weath- 
er; the  moon  will  soon  be  full  and  moonlight 
nights  on  the  ocean  are  wonderfully  beautiful. 
The  farther  one  gets  out  to  sea  the  deeper  the 
blue  of  the  ocan.  In  the  morning  the  water  is 
blue,  in  the  evening  it  is  grey,  and  at  night 
gleams  like  silver. 

Today  I  shall  make  candy  bags  for  the  chil- 
dren of  the  enlisted  men — they  must  have 
their  Christmas  too. 

Thursday,  December  23,  1909. 

A  bit  cloudy  this  morning  and  very  warm. 
I  have  just  finished  some  work  in  my  state- 
room and  as  soon  as  this  little  record  is  writ- 
ten I  must  get  to  work  on  those  candy  bags  I 
am  making  for  the  Christmas  tree. 

It  hardly  seems  possible  that  we  are  nearing 
Christmas,  with  the  heat  almost  unbearable. 
The  band  gave  a  concert  last  night.  We  passed 
Wake  Island  last  night  about  midnight,  I  be- 
lieve. This  has  been  a  long  voyage. 

Friday,  December  24,  1909. 
Sea  smoother  this  morning  than  at  any  time 
since  we  sailed.  Warm  with  but  little  breeze. 
It  required  some  effort  on  my  part  to  get 
ready  for  breakfast,  so  great  was  my  lack  of 
energy. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  69 

Tomorrow  will  be  Christmas.  This  tropical 
heat  and  a  blazing  sun  makes  it  hard  to  real- 
ize. I  have  just  been  down  to  the  commissary 
to  get  apples  and  candy  for  the  Christmas 
bags.  Anything  to  vary  the  monotony  of  this 
long  voyage  is  welcome. 

The  men  are  taking  the  setting-up  exercises. 
The  band  gave  us  a  concert  last  night. 

Saturday,  December  25,  1909. 

Clear  and  warm  and  Christmas  Day.  Sea 
quite  rough  and  some  of  the  passengers  quite 
sick  because  of  it. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  Christmas  tree  was  all 
ready  on  the  lower  deck,  and  Santa  Claus  ar- 
rived soon  after  the  reading  of  a  telegram 
from  him  by  our  Chaplain.  The  little  folks 
were  overjoyed  and  the  grown-ups  had  a  good 
time. 

We  are  running  southwest  and  the  heat  is 
great.  I  have  enjoyed  opening  my  Christmas 
boxes  from  home,  beautiful  gifts  from  all  for 
the  Major  and  myself.  I  made  seven  bags  of 
antiseptic  gauze  and  filled  them  with  candy 
and  an  apple  each  for  the  seven  little  children 
of  the  enlisted  men.  Every  one  seems  jolly 
and  all  seemed  to  enjoy  the  Christmas  tree. 
There  is  to  be  a  dance  tonight.  Our  Christ- 
mas dinner  is  yet  to  come. 


70  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Sunday,  December  26,  1909. 
"Pulled  through." 

Monday,  December  27,  1909. 

Sea  smooth,  but  temperature  decidedly 
warm.  Last  night  was  about  the  warmest  I 
have  ever  experienced  at  sea.  I  could  not 
sleep  until  near  morning.  We  hope  to  reach 
Guam  early  tomorrow  morning. 

I  have  begun  my  letters  home  as  they  must 
go  back  on  the  Logan.  Twenty-two  days  since 
we  sailed  from  San  Francisco — we  have  about 
a  week  still  ahead. 

Tuesday,  December  28,  1909. 

This  morning  finds  us  in  the  harbor  at  Guam. 
The  island  is  small  but  very  beautiful,  covered 
with  groves  of  palm  trees  and  tropical  foliage. 
The  transport  cannot  run  in  near  shore,  so 
launches  have  been  sent  in  to  carry  any  of 
our  passengers  who  care  to  see  the  town. 

Boats  are  busy  carrying  freight  from  the 
transport  to  the  shore  as  the  United  States 
has  a  station  on  the  Island  of  Guam.  Quite  a 
number  of  our  people  have  gone  ashore  and 
more  are  going  later,  but  I  shall  content  myself 
with  looking  at  the  Island  from  the  deck  of 
the  transport.  We  are  to  sail  this  afternoon 
at  6  o'clock.  Still  four  days  to  Malabang. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  71 

Wednesday,  December  29,  1909. 

Raining  and  sea  quite  rough  this  morning 
and  hot,  oh,  so  hot.  We  left  Guam  this  morn- 
ing about  6  o'clock. 

The  harbor  at  Guam  is  beautiful,  a  half 
circle,  and  the  bluffs  are  grand  with  the  spray 
breaking  high  against  the  rocks  and  the  long 
line  of  green  water  and  foam  along  the  coral 
reefs.  We  are  now  on  the  last  lap  of  our 
long  voyage,  and  hope  to  arrive  at  our  first 
station,  Malabang,  where  one  squadron  will 
be  sent  ashore. 

No  orders  have  been  issued  by  our  Colonel 
and  all  the  people  of  the  regiment  are  on  the 
anxious  seat. 

These  voyages  are  certainly  a  trial  of  pa- 
tience— a  drenching  tropical  rain  has  just  driv- 
en us  into  our  staterooms. 

Thursday,  December  30,  1909. 

Sea  very  rough  with  clear  skies  and  a  burn- 
ing sun. 

Orders  designating  the  stations  of  the  three 
squadrons  were  published  this  morning.  Every 
one  seems  pleased. 

The  band  gave  us  a  concert  last  night,  which 
we  all  enjoyed  very  much.  So  warm  this 
morning  I  have  found  it  quite  a  task  to  do 


72  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

anything,  and  in  consequence  have  left  undone 
many  things  I  should  have  done. 

Friday,  December  31,  1909. 

Sea  a  bit  rough,  very  warm.  Have  just  fin- 
ished breakfast  and  am  ready  for  the  day.  I 
hope  it  will  not  prove  to  be  a  very  long  one. 
This  being  the  last  day  of  the  month,  the  men 
are  out  for  muster  and  inspection. 

Yesterday  the  transport  made  a  good  run, 
302  miles.  We  are  all  looking  forward  to  the 
happy  day  when  we  can  leave  the  ship  for 
our  stations.  Tomorrow  will  be  New  Year's 
and  we  will  be  near  land.  Last  night  the 
breeze  was  on  our  side  of  the  ship  and  we 
passed  a  very  comfortable  night.  I  must  try 
to  finish  some  of  my  letters  today,  for  as  soon 
as  our  squadrons  begin  to  land  I  am  afraid  I 
will  be  too  interested  to  write. 

OPEN  AIR  CONCERT 

THIS  EVENING  AT  7:45  O'CLOCK 

SECOND  CAVALRY  BAND 

Louis  Witt,  Conductor 

PROGRAM. 

1.  March,  "Dixie  Land  I  Love  You" Ayer 

2.  Serenade,  "Departed  Days"  Louis 

3.  Mazurka,  "Zulma" .Roth 

4.  Solo  for  two  cornets  "Panorama" 

Greenwood 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  73 

5.  Characteristic,  "Noisy  Bill"  Laescy 

6.  Young  Werner  Parting  Song Bettger 

U.  S.  A.  T.  Logan,  at  Sea. 

December  31,  1909. 

Saturday,  January  1st,  1910. 

New  Year's  day  on  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Sea 
fairly  smooth,  sun  very  hot.  Breakfast  over 
and  the  duties  of  the  day  begun.  I  did  not  sit 
up  to  see  the  old  year  out,  but  many  of  our 
passengers  did.  We  hope  to  sight  land  tonight 
or  tomorrow.  How  glad  we  will  be  when  this 
long  voyage  is  over.  The  heat  is  becoming 
greater  every  day. 

Sunday,  January  2,  1910. 

Land  in  sight.  I  feel  like  Columbus  must 
have  felt  when  he  discovered  the  New  World. 
How  good  it  looks  to  us  weary  mariners.  Last 
night  we  had  a  dance,  but  it  was  really  too 
warm  for  dancing, — the  night  was  hot,  but 
there  is  a  fine  land  breeze  this  morning  which 
is  very  refreshing.  Many  of  the  ladies  are 
writing  letters  home.  We  have  just  had  ser- 
vices in  the  dining  salon — this  will  be  our  last 
services  on  the  transport. 

The  first  squadron,  with  headquarters,  will 
leave  the  transport  at  Jolo  and  here  we  will 
say  goodbye  to  our  many  dear  friends,  includ- 
ing our  good  Chaplain  Flemming. 


74  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

The  2d  squadron  will  leave  the  ship  at  Mala 
bang.  The  Major  and  myself  will  be  the  last 
to  leave  the  ship. 

Monday,  January  3,  1910. 

Anchored  in  the  harbor  at  Malabang,  2nd 
squadron  unloading  freight  as  this  is  their 
station. 

The  long  range  of  mountains  is  heavily  tim- 
bered and  very  beautiful  to  see.  We,  the 
Major  and  myself,  expect  to  get  off  at  Jolo 
(Holo)  for  station.  This  is  the  third  time  the 
order  designating  our  station  has  been 
changed.  Last  night  was  very,  very  warm  and 
I  could  not  sleep. 

Tuesday,  January  4,  1910. 

The  Island  of  Jolo  is  in  sight  and  we  hope 
to  land  at  our  station  there  in  a  few  hours. 
The  sea  is  glassy  and  the  heat  great.  We  are 
sailing  through  the  straights  and  many  islands 
are  in  sight. 

We  discovered  yesterday  that  our  freight  is 
not  on  this  transport, — it  has  been  almost  the 
last  straw  with  me.  I  have  looked  forward  all 
this  long  voyage  to  unpacking  our  household 
goods  and  beginning  life  in  our  own  home — now 
we  will  have  to  camp  in  an  empty  house  for 
goodness  knows  how  long.  I  have  everything 
ready  for  going  ashore. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  75 

Here  we  will  bid  goodbye  to  some  of  our 
dearest  friends  as  the  3rd  squadron  will  go  on 
to  Camp  Overton. 

Wednesday,  January  5,  1910. 

Clear  and  warm,  sea  smooth.  We  reached 
Jolo  yesterday  and  there  sent  ashore  the  1st 
squadron,  going  ashore  ourselves  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  remaining.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
orders  were  issued  changing  the  Major's  sta- 
tion to  Camp  Overton.  When  the  soldiers  of 
the  3rd  squadron  learned  that  Major  Sargent 
was  to  go  with  them  to  Camp  Overton  as  their 
commanding  officer  they  broke  into  loud 
cheers.  The  Major  is  always  much  liked  by 
his  men. 

All  of  our  baggage,  consisting  of  heavy 
trunks  and  suitcases,  had  to  be  carried  back 
to  the  transport.  We  hope  to  reach  Overton 
early  tomorrow  morning.  Altogether  our  sta- 
tion has  been  changed  four  times, — I  am  al- 
most a  wreck.  The  heat  has  been  very  great 
and  sleep  has  been  almost  impossible. 

It  is  now  almost  noon.  Have  just  passed  a 
lighthouse  on  a  small  island.  We  can  see 
islands  on  all  sides  of  us.  It  breaks  the  mon- 
otony of  the  long  voyage  to  be  able  to  see  the 
land. 

At  Jolo  the  natives  came  flocking  around  the 


76  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

ship  in  canoes,  diving  for  pennies.  They  look 
more  like  tadpoles  than  human  beings  and 
were  repulsive  to  me.  I  wonder  if  they  will 
surround  us  at  Overton — I  hope  not. 

Jolo  is  a  beautiful  place,  and  the  houses  in 
the  walled  city  are  very  attractive.  The  of- 
ficers stationed  there  were  very  kind  to  us 
and  found  places  for  all  our  officers  and  their 
families. 

Thirty  days  today  since  we  sailed  from  the 
United  States. 

Thursday,  January  6,  1910. 

Camp  Overton,  Mindanao.  Reached  here  this 
A.  M.  Came  ashore  about  12  after  having 
lunch  on  the  Logan.  I  am  writing  this  in  my 
own  house.  All  is  confusion,  freight  being 
hauled  up  from  the  dock.  Officers  have  chos- 
en quarters  and  moved  their  families  in.  Too 
tired  to  write  more  today. 

Thus  endeth  my  diary. 


Our  long  voyage  was  over,  by  this  time  we 
could  fully  realize  that  we  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world. 

Here  were  we,  a  little  colony  of  Americans, 
thousands  of  miles  from  home,  down  in  the 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  77 

depths  of  the  tropical  forests,  surrounded  by  a 
treacherous  tribe,  but  above  our  little  camps 
floated  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  the  symbol  of 
Liberty  we  were  pledged  to  follow  wherever  it 
might  lead.  No  one  can  ever  know  how  strong 
in  their  hearts  is  the  love  for  the  old  Flag 
until  they  see  it  floating  in  the  breeze  on  a 
foreign  shore. 

Our  quarters  at  Camp  Overton  were  quite 
primitive.  The  soldiers'  barracks  were  built  of 
rough  lumber,  but  were  comfortable.  The  set 
of  quarters  we  occupied  was  the  only  set  built 
of  lumber,  rough  planks, — the  other  quarters 
for  officers  were  nipa  shacks,  frames  made  of 
bamboo  poles  covered  with  palm  leaves.  But 
they  were  rain  proof  and  quite  picturesque 
when  ready  for  occupancy.  Our  porches  were 
made  beautiful  with  hanging  air  plants,  and 
many  different  varieties  of  orchids.  Our  lights 
were  kerosene  lamps  and  candles.  Once  a 
month  a  transport  came  to  our  isolated  camp 
bringing  mail  from  the  United  States  via 
Manila. 

General  Pershing  was  in  command  of  the 
Department  of  Mindanao,  with  headquarters 
at  Zamboango,  beautiful  Zamboango,  the 
quarters  in  a  bower  of  trees,  vines  and  flowers. 
Stately  and  handsome  Mrs.  Pershing  was  the 
"First  lady  of  the  land"  at  Mindanao.  All  the 


78  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

world  knows  the  fate  of  Mrs.  Pershing  and  her 
three  little  girls,  but  all  the  world  does  not 
know  that  there  are  those  who  can  go  bravely 
on,  doing  the  work  given  them  to  do  though 
their  hearts  are  broken. 

We  were  now  down  among  the  treacherous 
Moros,  Mohammedans,  with  great  contempt  for 
us  "Christian  dogs."  The  "Datoes"  or  rulers 
had  offered  eight  hundred  pesos  (dollars)  for 
every  American  rifle  the  men  of  the  tribe 
could  get  by  waylaying  and  killing  our  sol- 
diers. An  order  was  issued  forbidding  any 
man  to  leave  the  garrison  alone,  but  notwith- 
standing all  precautions,  a  number  of  our  men 
and  one  young  officer  were  killed  with  knives 
and  spears. 

Moros,  monkeys,  big  snakes  and  wild  hogs 
abounded.  Speaking  of  snakes — one  was  killed 
only  a  short  distance  from  our  quarters  which 
measured  18  and  one-half  feet  in  length,  and 
as  large  around  as  a  man's  thigh,  beautifully 
marked  and  colored,  much  like  our  garter 
snakes  at  home.  These  snakes  belong  to  the 
boa  species  of  reptile  and  crush  their  prey. 

After  two  or  three  months  at  Camp  Overton, 
Major  Sargent  was  sent  to  Malabang  for  duty. 
In  just  one  year  to  a  day  we  were  on  our  way 
back  to  Camp  Overton.  In  a  very  short  time 
we  bade  farewell  to  our  dear  friends  at  Over- 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  79 

ton  and  sailed  for  Manila.  This  had  been  our 
station  for  almost  two  years  during  the  insur- 
rection twelve  years  before. 

Some  two  months  later  we  sailed  for  the 
United  States  on  our  fourth  and  last  voyage 
across  the  Pacific  ocean. 

Our  life  in  the  sunny  islands  had  been  most 
interesting  and  unusual.  There  had  been  trials 
of  course,  and  many  hardships,  but  how  glad- 
ly would  we  live  again  "those  dear  dead  days 
beyond  recall." 


80  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  WORLD  WAR. 

Before  leaving  Manila  my  husband  went  be- 
fore a  retiring  board,  and  was  retired  from  ac- 
tive service  on  account  of  disability;  he  had 
become  quite  deaf.  It  was  hard  for  him  to  re- 
concile himself  to  giving  up  the  army  life,  for 
he  was  a  born  soldier,  but  with  his  usual  phil- 
osophic outlook  on  life,  he  cheerfully  accepted 
whatever  came,  and  made  the  best  of  the  situ- 
ation. We  both  loved  the  army  life  and  the  old 
regiment.  The  people  of  the  regiment  were 
"home  folks"  to  us.  The  regiment  has  made 
a  splendid  record  and  we  were  very  proud  of 
it.  Organized  in  1836  the  regiment  was  known 
as  the  Second  Dragoons.  On  the  third  of 
August,  1861,  the  regiment  became  known  as 
the  Second  Cavalry.  I  have  never  understood 
why  the  name  of  the  regiment  was  changed, 
for  the  original  name  has  always  appealed  to 
me.  Since  its  organization  the  regiment  had 
taken  part  in  162  battles.  The  beautiful  old 
battle  flag  of  yellow  silk  carries  many  names 
of  battles,  for  it  was  carried  through  the  Mex- 
ican War,  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  the  Span- 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  81 

ish-American  War,  and  through  many  Indian 
wars. 

Finally  the  regiment  did  some  fighting  in 
the  Philippine  Islands  and  in  France.  During 
our  war  with  Spain  part  of  the  Second  Caval- 
ry served  in  Cuba  and  Porto  Rico  and  were 
the  only  mounted  cavalry  in  that  war. 

Troops  "A",  "C",  "D"  and  "F"  made  up  the 
squadron  in  Cuba.  Troop  "B"  in  Porto  Rico, 
served  as  a  bodyguard  for  General  Miles.  There 
were  not  enough  horse  transports  to  carry  all 
the  cavalry  horses,  and  they  were  left  behind 
at  Tampa,  with  one  squadron  from  each  regi- 
ment to  care  for  them.  I  have  always  felt 
sympathy  for  the  men  of  the  squadrons  left 
behind.  I  think  I  know  how  great  must  have 
been  their  disappointment. 

The  motto  of  the  Second  Cavalry  is  "Tou- 
jours  Pret" — Always  Ready. 

Our  homeward  voyage  was  without  incident. 
It  is  a  long  voyage,  but  this  was  to  be  our  last, 
so  we  felt  quite  cheerful  over  it. 

Arrived  safely  in  port,  we  were  for  the  first 
time  in  many  years,  foot-loose  and  free  to  go 
when  and  where  we  pleased.  We  decided  to  go 
to  Oregon,  the  land  of  my  birth,  and  here  we 
finally  made  our  home. 

We  bought  a  nice  place  in  the  little  city  of 
Medford,  in  the  Rogue  River  valley.  Here  we 


82  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

lived  for  four  years,  adjusting  ourselves  to  civil 
life  and  trying"  not  to  look  backward  to  our  life 
in  the  army,  for  this  made  us  very  lonely.  We 
missed  our  army  friends  for  the  bond  between 
army  people  is  very  strong.  They  are  never 
strangers;  they  all  belong  to  one  big  family, 
whose  aims  and  interests  are  the  same.  We 
missed  the  trumpet  calls  and  the  boom  of  the 
sunset  gun. 

At  the  end  of  four  years  we  were  fortunate 
in  finding  an  ideal  old  place  in  the  historic  town 
of  Jacksonville.  This  we  purchased,  and  leav- 
ing our  Medford  place  to  be  sold,  we  moved  into 
the  old  mansion  in  November.  In  the  following 
April  my  husband  received  a  telegram  from  the 
War  Department  asking  him  if  he  would  be 
willing  to  return  to  active  service  as  Assistant 
to  the  Chief  Quartermaster  of  the  Western  De- 
partment. His  answer  to  this  was  "Yes." 

At  the  time  of  his  retirement  my  husband 
made  it  understood  that  if  his  country  ever 
needed  his  help  he  would  be  ready  to  serve. 

Conditions  in  Mexico  were  very  bad;  the  air 
seemed  full  of  rumors  of  war.  I  realized  it  was 
his  duty  to  go,  but  I  had  some  tears  to  shed, 
for  it  was  hard  to  leave  our  home  and  begin 
again  to  "follow  the  flag."  Of  course  I  was  not 
required  to  go  with  him,  but  it  was  the  logical 
thing  for  me  to  do.  I  had  always  gone  with 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  83 

him,  and  I  could  not  reconcile  myself  to  being 
left  behind.  We  were  very  fortunate  in  find- 
ing an  excellent  family  who  were  anxious  to 
take  charge  of  our  home,  and  as  soon  as  the 
order  came,  we  were  ready  to  leave  for  San 
Francisco,  headquarters  of  the  Western  De- 
partment. 

When  America  entered  the  war  against  Ger- 
many, I  realized  that  we  were  in  for  the  con- 
flict, however  long  it  might  prove  to  be.  I 
had  been  through  the  Spanish-American  war, 
the  Philippine  insurrection,  and  there  was 
nothing  for  me  to  do  but  "gird  on  my  armor" 
and  face  with  courage  whatever  came.  My 
husband's  heart  was  set  on  getting  to  France, 
and  I  resolved  to  follow  him  if  possible.  I 
immediately  trained  for  France  by  taking  both 
courses  in  first  aid.  I  received  my  certifi- 
cates and  was  registered  in  Washington  as  a 
"cadet"  or  nurse's  helper,  only  to  learn  later 
that  the  age  limit  for  cadets  was  35  years, 
and  I  was  too  old  to  serve. 

Although  recommended  for  command  of  a 
brigade  by  ex-President  Roosevelt  and  twenty- 
four  general  officers  of  the  United  States 
Army,  my  husband  failed  to  obtain  the  ap- 
pointment. This  was  the  bitterest  disappoint- 
ment of  his  life. 

From  San  Francisco  we  went  to  Princeton 


84  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

University  where  he  organized  the  students 
into  an  officers'  training  corps.  Here  we  met 
again  ex-President  and  Mrs.  Roosevelt.  He 
was  invited  to  deliver  an  address  before  some 
club  at  Princeton.  Needless  to  say,  the  hall 
where  he  spoke  was  crowded,  and  I  have  never 
heard  a  public  speaker  receive  so  much  ap- 
plause. 

On  the  day  of  his  arrival  the  students  were 
reviewed  by  Roosevelt.  I  went  down  to  the 
drill  ground  in  the  afternoon.  The  review  was 
over  and  I  went  through  the  crowd  of  specta- 
tors to  speak  to  him.  He  came  to  meet  me, 
saying  in  his  emphatic  way,  "I  am  glad  to 
meet  you,  Mrs.  Sargent, — truly  glad;  your 
husband  has  written  the  finest  history  of  the 
Spanish-American  war  that  has  ever  been 
written."  Just  then  a  visitor  came  elbowing 
her  way  through  the  crowd,  saying  "I  want 
to  shake  hands  with  the  hero  of  San  Juan 
Hill."  "Madam,"  said  Roosevelt  in  a  loud 
voice,  "I  am  not  the  hero  of  San  Juan  Hill, 
General  Hawkins  was  the  hero  of  San  Juan 
Hill."  I  thought  it  fine  of  him. 

In  March,  1918,  my  husband  was  ordered 
to  Washington,  D.  C.  He  was  detailed  in  the 
War  Plans  Division  of  the  General  Staff  in 
the  War  College.  This  pleased  us  very  much. 
I  had  'been  very  homesick  that  winter;  we  had 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  85 

lived  in  Washington  in  1909,  and  it  was  the 
next  best  thing  to  going  home. 

We  found  the  city  greatly  changed, — from 
being  one  of  the  most  quiet  and  cleanest  cities 
in  the  United  States,  it  was  noisy  and  dirty. 
There  were  all  sorts  of  vehicles  running  to 
and  fro,  and  we  often  found  it  impossible  to 
get  even  standing  room  on  the  street  cars. 
It  was  hard  to  find  vacant  rooms;  every  avail- 
able place  was  crowded  with  war  workers, 
but  we  finally  found  a  room  at  the  old  Ulster 
Inn,  near  Dupont  Circle.  We  felt  the  war  was 
very  near,  and  when  the  hospitals  began  to 
fill  with  the  wounded,  we  realized  the  horror 
of  it  all. 

While  in  San  Francisco  I  helped  to  make 
compresses,  bandages  and  many  garments  for 
the  sick  and  wounded  in  the  hospitals.  At 
Princeton  the  work  went  on,  but  when  we 
reached  Washington  I  decided  to  try  an  en- 
tirely different  line  of  work  in  an  army  can- 
teen. I  found  the  work  intensely  interesting, 
but  very  hard,  and  much  to  my  regret  I  had 
to  give  it  up. 

I  count  as  my  most  interesting  experience 
while  in  Washington  during  the  war,  my  meet- 
ing with  Madam  Maria  Bochkareva,  com- 
mander of  the  Russian  women's  "Battalion  of 
Death."  When  I  learned  that  she  was  in 


86  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

Washington  I  was  very  anxious  to  meet  her 
for  I  had  been  thrilled  with  the  accounts  of 
her  courage  and  wonderful  exploits.  I  had 
gone  down  to  the  Army  dispensary  for  treat- 
ment, and  while  sitting  in  the  crowded  wait- 
ing room,  who  should  walk  in  but  the  very 
person  I  longed  to  meet!  I  seemed  to  know 
intuitively  who  she  was.  With  her  was  a 
slender  dark  man  who  proved  to  be  her  in- 
terpreter, for  she  could  not  speak  a  word  of 
English.  I  immediately  crossed  the  room, 
and  telling  her  interpreter  who  I  was,  asked 
him  to  introduce  me  to  the  Madam.  Just  as 
we  were  shaking  hands  her  name  was  called 
and  I  never  met  her  again. 

She  was  about  my  height,  five  feet  eight, 
but  with  broad  shoulders  and  large  frame.  Her 
complexion  was  very  fair  and  colorless,  eyes 
gray,  and  hair  dark  brown.  She  wore  her  hair 
"shingled"  but  not  short.  Her  mouth  and 
chin  were  beautiful.  I  noticed  the  smallness 
of  her  hands.  She  was  dressed  in  an  olive 
drab  uniform  and  across  her  breast  were  many 
medals.  She  came  to  plead  for  help  for  her 
country.  When  she  finally  obtained  an  inter- 
view with  President  Wilson  she  dropped  to 
her  knees  to  make  her  appeal.  She  failed  in 
her  mission,  and  I  have  never  heard  of  her 
since.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  Russian 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  87 

peasant,  but  a  woman  with  a  wonderful  mind. 

The  Battalion  of  Death  was  made  up  of 
girls  from  all  ranks  in  life,  college  girls,  daugh- 
ters of  the  rich  and  peasant  girls.  They  fought 
heroically  on  the  Galacian  front  and  were 
nearly  all  killed  or  wounded.  Their  brave  com- 
mander was  herself  seriously  wounded,  and 
lay  in  a  hospital  for  several  months,  paralyzed 
from  the  waist  down.  As  soon  as  she  could 
travel  she  came  to  America  to  plead  for  help. 

Every  war  has  its  great  poem.  Out  of  the 
World  War  came  "In  Flanders  Fields,"  one  of 
the  most  widely  known  and  most  popular  of 
all  the  poems  written  during  that  conflict.  It 
has  been  claimed  that  this  beautiful  poem  did 
more  to  encourage  enlistment  than  any  one 
thing  done  during  the  war.  This  poem  was 
written  by  Lieutenant  Colonel  John  McCrae  of 
the  Canadian  Medical  Corps.  He  was  working 
in  a  base  hospital  when  this  poem  was  writ- 
ten, and  died  soon  after.  He  was  stricken 
with  pneumonia,  meningitis  developed,  and  on 
the  fifth  day  he  died.  The  poem  follows. 


88  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

IN  FLANDERS  FIELDS 
By  John  McCrae. 

In  Flanders  fields  the  poppies  grow 
Between  the  crosses,  row  on  row, 
That  mark  our  place,  and  in  the  sky, 
The  larks,  still  bravely  singing,  fly, 
Scarce  heard  amid  the  guns  below. 

We  are  the  dead;  short  days  ago 
We  lived,  felt  dawn,  saw  sunset  glow, 
Loved  and  were  loved,  and  now  we  lie 
In  Flanders  fields. 

Take  up  our  quarrel  with  the  foe! 
To  you  from  failing  hands  we  throw 
The  torch;  be  yours  to  hold  it  high! 
If  ye  break  faith  with  us  who  die, 
We  shall  not  sleep,  though  poppies  grow 
In  Flanders  fields. 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  89 

Many  answers  have  been  written  to  this 
poem.  I  was  deeply  affected  when  I  read  it, 
and  resolved  to  put  my  feelings  into  an  answer. 
My  verses  may  not  be  called  poetry  by  the 
critics,  but  in  no  other  way  could  I  express 
my  emotion. 


MY  ANSWER. 

Sleep  well,  beloved  dead  who  lie  in  Flanders 
Fields, 

The  soft  winds  bend  the  poppies'  heads, 
They  shed  slow  tears  of  dew  above  your  beds. 
Sleep  well,  we  have  kept  faith  with  you, 
And  still  fight  on. 

The  great  guns  boom,  the  deadly  missiles  fly; 
The  torch  you  gave  we  still  lift  high, 
To  light  brave  men  to  victory. 

Sleep  well,  oh  valiant  dead,  where  larks  sing 
low! 

And  all  the  brilliant  poppies  bloom  and  glow 
In  Flanders  Fields. 

Washington,  D.  C.,  Oct.  29, 1918. 


90  DIARY  OF  A  SOLDIER'S  WIFE 

My  years  with  the  Army  convinced  me  of  the 
necessity  of  preparedness,  preparedness  as  ad- 
vocated by  George  Washington,  by  Theodore 
Roosevelt,  and  by  all  the  leading  officers  of 
our  army  and  navy.  To  be  so  well  prepared 
that  no  other  nation  shall  dare  molest  or  make 
us  afraid. 

Nobody  wants  war,  least  of  all  those  who 
have  had  it  to  face;  we  want  peace,  but  in 
order  to  have  peace  we  must  be  prepared  to 
fight, 

"For  our  country  and  our  fires, 
For  the  green  graves  of  our  sires, 
God  and  our  native  land." 

At  two  o'clock  one  morning  I  heard  the 
newsboys  in  Dupont  Circle  crying  "Extra, 
Extra."  They  carried  the  message  that 
brought  joy  to  the  world,  the  signing  of  the 
armistice. 

Soon  after  the  close  of  the  war  my  husband 
was  relieved  from  active  service;  for  over  two 
years  he  had  been  on  duty.  We  left  Wash- 
ington on  Thanksgiving  Day  and  I  cannot 
express  the  joy  I  felt  when  our  train  pulled 
out  for  the  west,  and  the  rails  seemed  to 
click  this  refrain:  "The  war  is  over;  the  war 
is  over;  we  are  going  home;  we  are  going 
home!" 

This  ends  my  little  narrative.    I  am  proud 


FOLLOWING  THE  FLAG  91 

and  thankful  to  have  been  for  so  many  years 
of  my  life  with  the  Army  of  the  United  States, 
the  army  that  has  never  known  defeat. 


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